


You can call me monster

by Tehriel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 185,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tehriel/pseuds/Tehriel
Summary: What is a monster to a scientist but something to learn? Something to poke with a stick?What is a monster to an assassin but something to train?What is a monster to a hawk but something to watch?What is a monster to a hero but a villain?What is a monster to a creature of rage but something to understand?What is a monster to another monster but something to love?What is a monster to a soldier but something to challenge?What is a monster to a God but a hinderance?What is a monster to an outcast but a fellow outcast?Man I wrote this a long time ago and it hasn't seen the light of day- thought I'd polish it up and post it here and hopefully it puts a smile on someone's face c:





	1. Cats

**Author's Note:**

> Stan Lee is such a bro to his fans that it's probabaly not necessary to disclaim, but it goes without saying, these are marvel's characters and worlds- I'm simply playing with them :3

_He stroked her long black hair lovingly, but there was a fear in his fingertips. An unsettling worry. She had warm features, and a contrasting sharp nose, he held the same sort of pointed nose but it settled in between his hard angular face._

_"I wonder about you Munin." He confessed. The beauty had a tendency for doing as she desired without thinking things through to the fullest. She had an unrequited rebelliousness that he could never stop. If he did, she would no longer be herself. The person he so loved._

_"You could spend all the time in the world thinking Hugin, but how would that be living?" Munin countered, then again, if Hugin didn't think as he did, he wouldn't be the one she loved either. They worried for each other greatly, but isn't that what love -rhtrhrfhhnmfmfnfnf dmd_

 

Your writing came to a harsh and unwanted stop. You were on a roll. You had been feeling it, knowing it. As if remembering it. You glare at the little furry offender. Big green eyes stare back. Such a rude little creature, he doesn't think he has done anything wrong. In fact, from the the innocent look; he probably expected to be thanked and loved for standing on your emerald-glowing laptop's keyboard. Why did it glow green? Just a little experiment or yours, still, that damn cat.

No, you wouldn't give in again. But- those big playful pupils. And the purring. Oh, he did know how to play you. You let out a defeated sigh, scratching him behind the ears. Sebastian had been your only visitor for years. You left your window open to him always and he came and went as he pleased. You were a few stories up, he scaled scaffolding and drain pipes just to get you. Such a brave feline. You wouldn't admit it to yourself because it sounded quite sad, but he was also possibly your only friend.

You gave a stretch, your gaze came to the clock at the bottom right of you computer screen. Wow, you had been writing for quite a while. You offered a hand to the ebony boy and he took it, climbing it expertly like the branch of a tree, stepping until he met with your shoulder where he happily perched. He rubbed his face against yours making sure to leave mounds of fur in your nose.

Sebastian always had this strangely masculine scent about him, it was amplified when he sat on your shoulders, either his old owner was a man or he had a secondary owner on the side, -not that you were jealous or anything.. You were just happy he chose to visit when he did.

You kicked away from your desk, the wheels of your computer chair met with worn carpet showing that you had done this a matter of times. You felt Sebastian's weight adjust appropriately as he balance. His claws dug in deep, the clothes you wore said you were ready for such things, then again, you never actually get out of your thick pyjamas. No real need to.

You stepped from your seat, looking out of the open window. You could feel the carpet between your toes, so soft, so calming, yet that window... Out of impulse you adjust a pair of thick glasses on the bridge of your nose, they were squarish, they amplified your eyes slightly but not enough that you couldn't possibly see out of them.

The cat was your passenger as you made it to the front door, he knew what was coming, it was a general routine you held. You bent down and the clever cat stayed perched. There were two letters. A nasty looking bill and a letter from your publisher.

 

 _'New book is selling very well, just where do you get these ideas?!'_ The words gushed. Your publisher was probably a nice lady, well, you say 'lady'. Personally you have no idea, you had never met the person. You met with no one. The letter was filled to the brim of false pleasantries and complimentary remarks. But the at the bottom of the page was the real agenda as to why the letter was sent. ‘ _When should we be expecting the story you're working on? Next month would be a lovely time to release a new book!’_ You rolled your eyes, it's not like you did much else then write, still, they're impatient. You couldn't imagine your workload if you tried to keep up a social life on the side.

You huffed yet another sigh. Sighing was something that seem to come often to you; you sometimes questioned if you did it more than breathing- You tossed the letter in some direction to be worried about at a later date. Writing was something you took to naturally. You happily shared stories with the world, as long as they left you out of it; their world that is.

Your home had a happy scent of paper and pen ink, old books and old carpets. It was isolated and cozy. Perfect. You looked to another clock, this one was wooden, equally as wooden as the cabinet as it sat upon, but not the same shade. Mismatching objects seem to the a common theme of your home, as were books; stories lined as many surfaces as you owned, all shapes, sizes and colours. But the smallest hand was nearing six and that had you more interested in what lay between the books, on the lowest shelf of the same cabinet.

Your television was a few models away from being new; and that was being kind. But it worked- ‘alright’ so there was no point getting a new one you would reason to yourself. Yes- no point whatsoever to go out _there_ . It turned on with a dirty _thunk_ of electricity. Okay so it was very, very kind to say it was a few models away from new. You had to fix it a couple of times, tweaked a few more things. You not only got the usual channels but also ones you maybe- probably, should be paying for. A small smile played as you thought of this, not that you watch a lot of television- you liked movies and stories above plain old television, it was more that you wanted to prove that you could improve your tv, just because you can. There were victories in small rebellions.

Your stomach gave a sudden growl. No, you weren't hungry, you decided it. Maybe tomorrow -you'll eat tomorrow. The six o'clock news then played graphic disturbances from around the world. But something made your breath hitch above the rest.

Footage of last year's invasion, had it really been a full year since New York was home to an invasion of what people are calling the -Chitauri? Sebastian became disturbed as your shoulders hunched and fell as if of their own accord, it was only a nervous twitch- nothing to be concerned about. Huge monsters filled the skies above Stark Tower. People's screams filled the air. Your breathing shallowed, a lump grew in your throat. Hands sweated.

You live on the outskirts of New York City, somewhere you wouldn't quite classify as 'in town'. There was a less dense population, the apartment was cheap. It was usually quiet. But that day, though it was easily miles and miles away from where you were, it was so loud, you could usually block out sound, but not that day. The screaming. The sounds of death. Your hands shook.

Your brain began to tell you; you weren't getting enough air from this shallow breathing you were exercising since you had the restricted feeling in your throat. You came to drink in air through large huffs.

Gatherings of people were replenishing old flowers for thousands fallen in the onslaught. It wasn't a good idea to do this either. Overloading the blood with oxygen will have it go straight to the brain, instant blackout. You knew the science- but you couldn't stop yourself. You were already feeling the dizziness, you were beginning to feel as if the floor was lifting away from you. A knot tied in your stomach.

Seb helplessly wound himself, pacing your shoulders in a weird way he was trying to help. It was okay, a group of heroes appeared on the screen. They hadn't yet been named as a group but you couldn't not learn all of their names just from the news alone. Your saviours, much braver than you believed yourself to be. You slowed your breathing, clenching your fists. What right did you to panic when they were out there saving you like that? More of the heroes' plights came after.

Tony Stark with his impressively groomed facial hair in the Middle East as ‘Iron Man’ rebuilding buildings. Was it completely necessary to wear his bionic super-suit out in public like that? Was it just for PR? But you supposed that red and gold suit quite the beacon of hope.

Next was Steve Rogers, the blond with the body carved by angels, he was meeting with sick kids, bringing smiles to their faces before explaining to the cameras how he was only doing his duty to his fellow man. His words were proper, and he had an intense kindness to his blue eyes.

Then your mind lead to how he had really been carved; in a laboratory. Your hands still jitter in your lap, that would be horrible, to be cut up in a lab. Nervous eyes went to the window once more. You touched your glasses to the bridge of your nose accordingly. Was it safe?

You got up so suddenly your stray friend had to cling on for dear life. You went into your bedroom, closing the door behind, turning and unturning the knob a couple of times. It had to be closed. Your queen bed had as much non matching pillows and blankets to tie in with the rest of the home. You then did the same with the your walk in wardrobe's door. It _has_ to be closed.

There, in the back of the closet, was a chest, and what you hoped to be, two objects inside. Green eyes watched also as you unclasped and opened the compartment. There was a large amount of books, a couple of old papers with transcripts upon them, important paperwork and objects of memory, good and bad.

Beneath there was a nondescript, clear, old glass orb. It stood alone, it was plain and probably meant nothing to anyone else but you. Your hand brushed over it, smooth and cool to the touch, _safe and sound_.

Next to it was an old, metal, pressed tablet, it was about the size of your forearm in length and was crudely made, like it was originally just a block of silver metal, heated and quickly pressed, leaving uneven edges that possibly had parts crumble off. Pressed into the molten metal at the time were symbols.

Hurriedly done, this had to have been made quickly, yet the people who created the tablet wanted it last the ages. Your hand brushed over it, there was something there, old and forgotten. _Safe and sound, safe and sound_. Your mind repeated the phrase over and over. “Safe and sound.”

 

The nights were quiet for some. But not you. Crickets chirped, wind picked up, the old lady two floors away with that nasal condition was snoring up a storm. Not that you would complain. That required human interaction, and you weren’t made for it.

Worst was the streetlight across the street that gave a _zrrt, zrrt, thunk,_ of displaced electricity every now and again as it flickered. And the smells that drifted from the window. Garbage from the alley beside, today's old breads being given to the streets by the bakery across the way.

You had lived here for the longest time. You knew how to deal. You had a pair of headphones that dampened out the sound slightly, smooth notes of your favourite music wash over you, with such bulky accessories, you have to pick either front or back to sleep on because sides were out of the question.

Laying on your front had your face full of pillow which help with the scent of the world coming through your window, all you could smell was the aroma of your home infused with your yummy shampoo you buy from the online supermarket. Bless home delivery.

Something was missing from this nightly ritual though. You felt around for a pair of velvet ears and came up with nothing. No other weight was on the bed. He was your only friend, probably will be your only ever bed buddy. Yet, where was he? You had these rituals for a reason; it was safe. Sebastian was here always, without fail.

Loneliness seem to dump on you like a bucket of ice water, it drench you so that your clothes clung to you and made you feel heavy everywhere. You gave your small hovel a once over. There was no sign of the little demon. You then go to the window, your eyes skitter around, seeming to search for much more than just your companion. You were greeted with nothing more than what you initially searched for.

The silky black cat sat in the middle of the road, streetlight shining in the sheen of his coat. The middle of the road. Where cars are supposed to go. You stared in disbelief, what was that little idiot doing? He was going to get himself killed.

You start to pace, another strip of worn carpet the lengthwise of your home showing this to be yet another of your quirks. Sure, your street was on the more remote side but that meant no street cameras on your straight, no one cared how fast you were supposed to go around here- you look down again to where he had propped a leg up and started licking his- oh dear. He wasn't going to be moving for while.

You like Sebastian because you were indeed a cat person, and by definition of cat person you were self-proclaimedly selfish. You live alone, for yourself. But you couldn't handle it if he were to be taken by a car. Your hands were restless, you wrung them out on the bottom of your night shirt. You figured to call for him. You didn't often use your voice, you wondered if you could even make it loud enough to get him to hear.

"Sebastian~!" You called from the window. You could almost feel it echoed from all the spaces inbetween. What if you got more attention than you desired? However whether or not you got more you didn't know because the cat looked up from his grooming. You came in contact with those great green orbs before he lazily flopped to the other side for another angle to continue his grooming.

You put a palm to your forehead. Cats. You- you had to leave the house. That's all there was to it. Though you thought it calmly, you felt as if your entire body had come in contact with a brick wall. You wanted to weasel out of it. You didn't want to go out there- you tried to convince yourself you couldn't, that you didn't have the ability to and yet you could at the same time.

But your best friend was out there, on the road, and every second, the next car to pass by your building was coming closer. You chewed at the inside of your cheek, it hurt, but it was grounding.

You growled, pulling on an old, hardly worn jacket, it was green, and knee-length, had a dress cut, and a modest collar with perfect pearl buttons.

You held out your hand to the door knob, this was it, the exit to your heaven's slice. Your hand retracted almost instantly as if you were burnt on contact, or it had transformed into the hairiest spider to ever exist. Damn it. Your legs gave a dance, stomping the ground like a child having a tantrum, when you were only battling yourself.

You thoughts went to your small friend, he was right there from day one when you finally found a little spot of your own to settle down it, away from all the horrors. It was like he knew from a glance what you had lived through. That was years ago.

You shoved up your sleeves with renewed ambition, it was dark, no one was around, you're fine, you're great. You opened the door, a pair of scarcely used, shiny keys came from out of the pocket of your jade coat. You locked and unlocked and locked again. _Safe and sound, safe and sound_. Before all but tearing ass down the stairs.

You didn't like elevators, the way they screech, or at least how this one did and to be trapped in the same space as someone for the ride down? -imagine getting stuck! No thank you. Stairs were safe and probably even quicker, you ran it, even if it probably wasn't socially acceptable to run in the halls and stairwell of a housing complex- even more so at night.

The streets were an eery black. The moon hadn't even bothered to come out tonight so there was nothing but blackness and the less than reliable streetlight that worked when it wanted to. Even someone without heightened senses could tell that is was shady.

Sebastian just now lay in the middle of the road showing you his soft belly. Such an impish cat. He knows what he has done and you were less than impressed. You crouch down by him, lifting him under his arms and into yours.

Little monster started purring. At least one of you was happy, all you wanted to do now was go back to your warm bed- that's when you saw the bright of the headlights on the road and reflective signs. It was already too close for you to get out its way. You had to make a split decision, your stomach plummeting and heart racing you turn your back to it in hope of protecting your cat. It hit at speeds beyond the road's restrictions, slamming into you.

You didn't even move, your legs staying grounded. The terrified black cat struggled from your arms, leaving bloody claw marks in his wake, unaware of your want to save him, just what he had seen; a car hit a person at high speeds, and the vehicle was the one in worse condition.

Bones popped back into place with a nasty snapping. Crimson filled the road, you fell to you knees. They would know, they would find you, you brought your knees to your chest, there was no way of stopping the panic attack that ensued, a fear ate away at you along with a feeling worse than death.

Those green eyes, those who you thought understood, looked on accusing, frightened. Not because of the near death experience, but because of you; the monster.

 

* * *

 

 

It was loud here. So many people, coming, going and leaving forever. Shuffling steps of covered shoes could be heard on hard flooring, by many feet. There’s a stomach churning scent of disinfectant, sterilised metals and something dank, like old sick they tried to masked with cheap cleaning products.

You didn't need to open your eyes to know the sterile, white-wash walls of a hospital. Your heart picked up in the thought of the many people that were probably now surrounding you, anyone of them could be- you swallowed.

You missed the musty warmth of your own bed. The safety. You must have panicked into fainting after being hit, a few broken things would have healed almost instantaneously, damn this disposition, it wasn't the car that had you here, but your own mind- such an untrustworthy thing.

Most would just be happy to be alive, but to you this was a reaffirmation that you were indeed what the other kids would call you; _a freak._ Normal amounts of people had probably forgotten their childhood and high school days or looked back on them with a smile, you could not say the same, what they had said ruled you to this day.

In between the noise was something comforting. The crisp voice of the late night news presenter, had you really been out for so long? Figures, you hadn't taken a hit like that in- a very long time. A television was nearby, you tried to shut everything out except that.

"Tonight we bring you details on a crash that happened hours ago on the outskirts of New York." With your playing-dead strategy of keeping your eyes closed, you could only imagine yourself paling in the front of this news. It was much less comforting than first thought to hear. "It was a miracle that no one was seriously hurt." A man whom you presume to be a police officer from his gruff tone had said. "The car hit the pedestrian on the passenger side, as you can see the entire side is destroyed." You gulped at your drying mouth. "The speeding driver has been apprehended as he was virtually unharmed." There was a slight calming effect by these words.

At least you hadn't killed another. Your secret was out though, after such careful hiding and planning ahead... But your little friend was alive, that reckless driver would have pummelled him into nothing, yes Sebastian was alive, though he would never look at you the same again.

You felt tears behind your closed eyelids threatening to spill but they never did. You had lost friends before, it was your fault for getting too attached, something like you doesn't deserve friendship. It hurt to think, but, it wasn't something you hadn't thought a million times before. Tears don't fall from your eyes, they dried up long ago with your expectations for life. The best you could wish for now was a quiet place to read other's tales of adventure and to write under some other pen name, you had picked up and dropped so many you hoped you might not double up. But that means hiding again, that also meant escaping undetected.

Listening out for any particularly close sounds and finding yourself alone you finally rise. The surroundings were just as bland as you expected, like all colour had seeped from the world around you, leaving it cold and lifeless. Your clothes had been taken from you, leaving a pair of cotton pyjamas the same shade as the walls. You figured your favourite green jacket was probably torn to shreds, such a dejecting thought. You wouldn't have been able to wear it again anyway, you'd been seen in it. Even worse was your glasses that sat beside you on a table with a dirty scratch in the right lens. Damn. You hitched them to the bridge of your nose regardless.

Your bare feet then met with the ground, missing the feeling of carpet, you stand. Your body was a little stiff, you were exhausted after putting yourself back together- probably why you were out for so long. Your eyes darted around of their own accord, measuring distances, recording exits.

You were the single patient in this room, suppose they wouldn't want you around the normal people? You moved to shut the only entrance, you had no patience for nurses. Would they even give you a nurse? If they did they would probably at least holster a gun or something bigger.

You closed the door quietly and held your back to it. You would be able to hold off anyone who dares try to open it, while figuring out your escape. There was a single window but it was unpleasantly barred. The bars wouldn't hold you for long, you only needed time. You had to get back to your apartment. If you perhaps made the bed and remove all evidence of you being here, at first glance, if they didn't know any better, it would look like no one is missing.

As you piece these this together your heart raced in the face of being caught here, it was on the news but there was no one here yet that wanted to take you into custody. Hopefully the wrong people haven't yet caught wind. All you could do was count that they wouldn't at least for only another few hours, because if they did- wouldn't they cut you up just to see it heal? Poke you with sticks to see your strength? Slice you open to see just how you tick?

You had to get out quick. You tidied things hurriedly, but not quick enough to lack perfection. Your old clothes were placed in a bag by your bed. You would wear the jacket one last time, it wasn't very inconspicuous to have a blood stained jacket but in the dark it was certainly more so than the crisp, white, hospital pyjamas. When you deemed the place unlived in, you turned the light out in the room and edge the window open.

As the glass shimmied up the painted frame hissed from lack of use. You grasped the bars with both hands, noting that no one was in sight in the darkness. And you pushed. It gave a deep groan as the bolts in the walls were brought loose. You prayed no one could hear. Your ears opened to any disturbances and there were none. With a final push the bars come free and you drop them into the garden below. The hedge cushioned the fall just enough for it not to be heard.

Memories of stories you have read and watched seem to romanticise this moment for you- jumping out of a window, all the best heroes have done it. You tiptoed back to the door and shift it open, it would be less suspicious this way. Who escapes leaving the door open? It was only a dark empty room, nothing to see here.

From all the stories that involved jumping from a window you would probably identify most with a character named Sally in a favourite movie of yours. Of course she intended to do something quite brave; saving her beloved Jack. You were  more or less- cowardly running away. Peering over the edge you stomach plummeted, there was this sickly feeling that came with knowing you were about to jump the distance. You’re a couple of floors up. Would you be able to put yourself together as Sally had? Did it matter? You swung your legs over and fell with style.

 

Your house was quiet. It suddenly felt more alien to you, all the comfort in this place dried up, as if something had desecrated your sanctuary. Or was it the illusion of safety you once had, that has left you?

As expected Sebastian was nowhere in sight. You tried to convince yourself he was only some stupid cat anyway, disrupting your day with his idiotic furry face. You didn't love him, you didn't... No matter how you thought it, your heart seem to sink lower and lower.

You had been lost in thought and were only now realising the apartment was strangely quiet. It was later now, call it a habit- but you took the long way home; back alleys and small streets, it was so late you expect that the old lady with the sinus condition would be fast asleep, expected the crickets and the late nighters still talkin. It was quiet, almost purposefully so- no, something was very wrong.

You stilled. They were here. Your deepest fear, the one that had you hidden away for years was here in the flesh. You shouldn't go for your trunk in the walk in. They'll find out it is there. The shadows had eyes. You backed out slowly the way you came from your entrance way. They can't know, that orb was too precious, that tablet- far too dangerous. Even if it meant in the end they caught you.

When you were on the other side of the threshold once more; you bolted like a frightened animal. Your bare feet slapped against the vinyl flooring of the corridor as you went. They had cleared everyone from the near vicinity. There were no sounds of sleep, no TV late into the night, no radio. Not even a car. It took true power to pull something like that, power only they could wield. What did they think was going to happen that warranted clearing the entire block of residence? What weaponry could they wield to warrant such expected destruction? Or was it you they expected wreckage from? You clench your jaw along with your hands to stop the jittering.

They would be waiting for you at the building's opening you realised on your way down the stairs. You instead got off at the second floor and took yet another window placed on the other side of the building to the ground. Your body still hurt from the last bodged landing but you had more confidence in jumping from such heights. As you fell you were met with the cold night air, it burned your lungs as you breathed irregularly from fear.

You landed and your left foot gave a sickening crunch as your bare feet met with the soil of the poor garden you squashed. The break started to heal immediately, but a rose bush had the final laugh as it punctured your skin with thorns. You felt like a cactus butt. It throbbed- everything hurt, it took everything not to cry out and give away your position already. You shouldn't walk on your foot as it is- let alone sprint on it, but they were here.

You could feel them behind you like a monster in that dark. You could hear their steps now- it didn't matter whether you cried out or not. They no longer concealed themselves, they were already alerted. You had to lead them away from you home and your treasure, you didn't have any ability to fight, but that didn't mean you wouldn't go down without one.

You ran. Ran as hard and fast as you could with your foot paining you as it did. The pavement and roads dug at your feet that were used to nothing but carpet. The night air was cold as you cut through it, your green coat trailing the the wind behind you, your heart pounded loudly in your ears, you could feel them closing in.

You took yet more back alleys, jumped over what you could, you prayed for your coordination to stay with you. It was another night where the moon didn't bother to show but a sliver. You were strong and virtually indestructible, but years of staying inside did absolutely nothing for your fitness -neither did your diet. You had a heightened endurance but that would probably not stand against people like these.

You came to a clearing, a park of some sort, or an oval? It was too dark to differentiate as the streetlights were left behind; but you could feel the moist grass between your toes. Your muscles burned from the repeated abuse and the sudden workout regime. You ran headlong into darkness, the thoughts of what these people would do if you got caught were the only fumes you operated on.

You skidded to a halt only because your legs failed to listen to you, your left ankle screamed at you to stop. _Safe and sound. Safe and sound._ You tried to ignore its pain and focus on the more important. This should be far enough away from your precious treasure chest.

And that's when you finally saw these men. These men who have hunted you for so long, who saw you hide, who have come to bring you finally to justice. Men; others probably thought only existed in your head.

A dreary sting began behind your eyes, the past few years had been the happiest you had known. Your legs quivered. The squad were all dressed head to toe in a dark night's camouflage. They came into formation around you. There was no possible escape. You saw a glint of metal handcuffs. You didn't want to go, you felt a disgusting rush- and urge to harm. To the closest you gave a swift kick to the shin, it welcomed the kick with an unbearable snapping sound. You were a coward, this wasn't bravery, it was survival.

Seeing what you had done to his friend another faceless blacked out man lunged to you.

Dodging him, you used his own momentum against him throwing him in some direction where he landed with a thud. You had no style, you were clumsy and animalistic; this is what these humans had reduced you to.

Two men flanked you either side, you slipped between with a jolt of speed before pushing their bodies together, they only parted to fall to the ground. This feeling; this feeling battle- you knew it well, there was something reminiscent of it, a stomach churning bloodlust came over you.

There was a sudden splitting pain in your arm that had you hiss like a wounded tiger. You turned to see a figure hovering with a knife above your forearm. You knocked his arm away with such force the blade was dislodged from his fingers and fell to the ground. You reached for it before kicking your leg high, making contact with his chest. You didn't need style or discipline when you had brute strength.

The man was flung to the ground by the sheer force. You held the knife in your hand. You looked at him with a murderous intent and boiling blood, you felt hot all over from rage. He was your enemy. He made you give your life away. Made you fear the outside world. The constant state of being afraid, it was so exhausting. He did this to you. All of them had.

The soldier looked up to see a gleam of- a smile? A predator’s shining teeth and the moonlight lighting your eyes. This was his end. -You- you were a monster.

In the pathetic light of the moon you faintly saw his face. The fear in his eyes. You had seen those eyes before when you had... What were you doing? The manic grin faded in an instant.

There was many things you thought you were; selfish, paranoid, cowardly, obsessive... But cruel you were not- if you could help it. They could have you, but not as the monster they believed you to be. You dropped the knife and it sunk into the soft ground.

You braced your shaking body before you were pinned to the ground by many bodies as if being tackled at a football match. Your breathing became very uneven underneath the human pancake stack. You wanted to make a fetal position but the people didn't allow it. So cold, so alone, not even your cat beside you. You could smell the earth and something strange; burning grass? As your conscience faded. The last thing you saw was someone stand on your already scratched, square glasses that had come dislodge from the bridge of your nose.

 

* * *

 

You were toasty warm. The bed hugged you all over. You could barely feel your body's ache, you woke with a happy stretch, your eyes still closed. You didn't feel like writing today. Maybe you would get lost in the pages of an adventure you wished you could have yourself.

Your usual music drifted through the air, you tried to get your headphones off groggily. But they weren't coming off. You hand mashed at your ear for a while before realising they really weren't any on you.

You opened your eyes only to be met with another's blue ones firing back at you by the end of your bed. He was studying you. You blinked. Who the hell was this guy? He was kinda short, his hair was a little receding, he held those kind blue eyes that reminded you of a certain Captain. He looked a bit older than the star spangled boy in blue, instead sporting a strict black suit.

Why was he in your house? Only; you look around, this wasn't your flat. Oh god. This was them. They knew everything, how you liked your bed, how you liked your music, of course they did. You could only hope they didn't know what was hidden in your cupboard. You looked at your hands. _Safe and sound. Safe and sound_. Your face gave a twitch.

What was your best bet for making it out of here? Should you be hostile? Threaten him? Even if you were taken down by a team of masked men, the one in front of you; you found to be less than threatening. You should work smartly- look for an opening, an opportunity.

All the while the brunet man watched. He was usually a conservative person, very polite. But when they brought in someone 'super' he couldn't help but be excited; almost childishly so. It reminded him of how he had the honour of watching over his childhood hero as he slept. Suppose it was a little creepy?

Looking down you noticed you were wearing something different, a white shirt that was too big and a pair of blue jeans. Was your underwear different too? Your eyes widened with comprehension. Someone in this building has seen your naked bod. The horror. Your eyes scanned around trying to forget the prospect of what these people might have done to you while you were unconscious.

This was a ward in a hospital, it lacked the scent and the colour scheme but the over all patronising feel was there, like a new teacher who pretends to be young and cool but gives out just as much homework as any other teacher. Perhaps more. It was a limp cover up. This might as well be a homely cell. You were a prisoner.

After a while it became obvious you weren't going to be speaking to the man so he took it as his place. "Hello, my name is Phil Coulson," he introduced finally.

You were half paying attention, you were still looking for an escape. There was only one way in or out and it was obstructed by that man. Your nose picked ‘Phil Coulson’s’ after shave, even body soap, this man you could tell was very clean. You often couldn't help smelling people, it was probably a little weird but it was how you categorised people, you can tell a lot from how someone smells, where they've been, where they're going, what they did for a living. Whether they were a threat. Mr. Coulson gave the impression that he was attempting to impersonate double O seven. Very suave.

"I am an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, Shield."

You body went rigid at the name, yeah, that would explain the scent. They really had caught you like a little mouse. You knew then that even that door was hopeless. With their tech, there was no getting out.

"We're actually at Shield's base of operations in New York." He informed.

Well at least you stayed in your state, but who could tell just how far away your home was from here? Where even was here- your author's brain came up with many theories; could it be built underneath the Statue of Liberty? The side of some mountain? An invisible craft in the sky? At least you were kind of close to your apartment- You could never know with these people. You could have ended up on an island in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

You studied Phil more closely now. Why didn't he show a shred of fear towards you? You could rip him apart if you had the motivation. Why were your hands unbound?

Again it seemed you were going to say nothing more. He stood rocking on the balls of his feet a little awkwardly. "You're not going to ask why you're here Ms.______?" He cocked his head to the side.

He had a pleasant voice- is that why they gave him to you? To soothe a beast? You gave him a shrug, not even surprised that they knew your name. You assumed that they would happily cut you up, poke your gooey bits, and reprimand you for your past, perhaps wipe your memory and turn you into a killer robot. Or cut out organs and regrow them for those in need of them? An author's mind is a minefield. They sent a small fucking army to retrieve you, you don't just expect just a friendly chat.

"We know from your circumstances if we were to recruit you in the usual way that you would just go deeper into hiding." His thoughts went to a certain green rage monster they had to detain in almost the same fashion.

Of course, they probably had been watching your ass for years, you could feel it- still what was this about recruiting?

Your head cocked in a confused sort of way in which Phil Coulson thought you were asking for more information, "-I am here to talk to you about the Avenger's initiative,"

You didn't think he could crack your stoic armour but your jaw certainly dropped. They were only offering you a job?

"-You have some natural er, talent that we think would be advantageous to the team." And he wished it didn't make him jealous.

You shook your head like a child in denial. This was a trick. Avenger's initiative was code word for; ‘we want to cut you up, we have already seen your nudey bits and we want more’.

Coulson ignored your defiance, since you weren't speaking over him he was going to be heard out. "The idea is to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they can be something more. To see if they can fight the battles we never could."

At this you shifted still half under the covers of the bed.

"You would be fighting beside the world's heroes."

So it was that they wanted you to be their little soldier? You didn't want to fight, you didn't want to hurt anybody- sometimes you just kind of 'lost it'. You felt a rush of shame for those you hurt last night. You hands shook.

This didn't go unnoticed by Agent. "Does the idea scare you?" There was a prominent crease between his brows as he frowned in confusion. "I saw the footage of you saving that stray cat, that car didn't even hurt you, what is there to fear?" He never had powers, he still fought the good fight, it was something he simply didn't comprehend.

Of course he didn't understand. You shook your head again. It wasn't you, it was everyone around you- how fragile they were, you were living in a world surrounded by the dainty, glass-filled shelves of an antique store and you were clumsy. What also was constantly on your mind was what you had hidden away in your closet, if you joined heroes, who would keep an eye on those?

They didn't know the first thing about you, how could they? You didn't know yourself. And yet they offer you a program for the opportunity to save the world? You would laugh at the irony had you not worn this stoic mask. If they knew who you were, they would know what you have done in the past. And yet they want you as a hero? You were supposed to be the thing heroes fought. Still the soldiers from last night flash against your mind once more. What if you seriously hurt someone? What if you fatally hurt someone?

"-are they okay?" Your unused voice was low and quiet, you couldn't even look at him as you spoke. You wondered if he even heard you.

Phil was taken aback that you'd actually spoken, forgetting that; that was a natural response when two humans were having a conversation. “Excuse me?” He blinked.

“The soldiers,” your face pulled. Did you really want to know?

Rather than ask about yourself you asked of the men who essentially attacked you? It really would be a loss to not have you on the team. "You didn't harm anyone too bad, there was a broken leg." He saw your shoulders sag at the admission of a bad wound. "-but now he gets to take his family to Tahiti on a company paid vacation, I think he might even thank you."

Suppose that wasn't so bad you considered.

"I saw you drop that knife, you aren't a bad person Ms.______," he assured.

The hell did he know? You did one of your favourite things and sighed. It seemed that they really didn't have much reason to keep you. Unless it was all a ploy to lull you into a false sense of security? "If that is all-" you edged, wanting to get out as soon as possible, find your treasure chest and hightail it from here or perhaps even the country.

"Wait-" the brunet agent came to fidget a little. And was that a blush appearing across his face? "A personal request really-" he brought out a familiar book cover he had hidden snug in his jacket pocket. It's title was 'to lose an eye' one of your false names was scrolled underneath.

So they even knew about this?

"C-could you sign it?" He presented you with a pen.

This man was kind of precious. Had he not worked for the likes of these people maybe you would have liked him? Maybe if you weren't what you were, maybe he would have liked you too? You obliged, saying nothing, giving your real name on the inside front cover.

You handed the book back and he looked at it like the most precious treasure in the world.  "I'd guess that you'd like to get out of here then?" He gave a small smile of understanding. His job wasn't for everyone, even if you were- 'super'.

Yes- that is what you wanted- you stepped from the bed, you went to adjust the spectacles that were forever on the bridge of your nose and found yourself only poke yourself in the face. "Uh-" Your voice only slightly raised. "-glasses-" you mumbled quietly, a little embarrassed you had raised it at all.

He frowned at this again confused. "We both know you have twenty/twenty vision Ms. _____"

You blushed remarkably at this, so they knew that too? They were your disguise, you way of looking as unthreatening as you could. "Still I-" you avoided eye contact. You were safer with them on.

Coulson reached into his other pocket, pulling out a little, black glasses-case and passed it to you. "The psychological team said you might ask for them," he hadn't really believed them, someone as strong as you, wanting to hide?

You stood looking at your new glasses. The 'psychological team' probably had a field day watching someone as warped as yourself. The glasses were just as thick rimmed as your last pair, you assumed someone in the psych team had a sense of humour because they appeared to look largely like Clark Kent's from the comic books. With them gracing your features you felt just a hint safer, even in the face of Shield.

He then showed you wordlessly to the door, knowing you weren't one for words though you wrote them for a living.

You followed cautiously along, through corridors, many doors and just as many security measures, looking for any sign of foul play but you never came across anything, you came to the main entrance and you stopped him. "You're sure? What I did-" part of you wanted them to lock you up, your past- it's what you deserved and was probably safer for all involved. Your own being always jousted with your sense of justice.

He knew what you were going to say and interjected, "I don't believe you are a threat, and my word is held quite highly around here." He said a matter-of-factly. Though he can think of a certain playboy and gamma scientist duo that would be a little put out that they didn't get to meet you and uh- figure you out. A nondescript black van showed up but the entrance. "This is your ride home," Coulson extended a hand, opening the door for you.

You got into the car dumbly- the base you had only then exited looked like a plain building- well- by New York's standard, so it was as tall as the sky; it kind of ruined spies for you because it wasn't exciting in the slightest. You were in a state of complete confusion. Was this real life?

"Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise?" Coulson called through the still open door.

You closed the door in response. Which might have been rude but you lack of human interaction didn't tell you otherwise. You looked out the window to see the agent smiling and waving. You declined his offer and yet he smiled? There must be something wrong here. Your instincts didn't tell you anything.

You didn't get out till the wheels met the curb outside your apartment building. You were expecting to be taken to some sort of torture chamber in the underground of the city the whole time. Was that it? Did they just give up? Your life felt like a sham. You stood in the sun of midday questioning everything you have ever held dear as the van rolled away leaving you there.

It felt as if he entire world had started spinning in the opposite direction. Were you really safe? You spent your life fretting for- this? Yet, there was something at the back of your mind. You need to check on them, one more time.


	2. A puppet in chains

 

You stood on the footpath that was heated by the day's sun, your bare feet could feel it immeasurably. Suppose there was a limit to Shield's hospitality? You had no shoes on to go with your new plain outfit. No- they couldn't possibly know that you preferred to be shoeless? Could they? You never voiced it, with the glasses there was medical records from schooling to say you had perfect eyesight. How could they know this much too? You squinted around while a chill ran up your spine.

Bastards had to be watching you somewhere. You felt nothing. Phil Coulson had said he didn't find you a liability and it seemed he meant it. But that didn't mean that there was something wasn't off in the air.

You legs started moving of their own accord. They knew where you had to be. You got into the apartment building when you started running. Your gut twisted up into itself- not Shield this time- at least that’s what your tummy was telling you. The hairs on your neck stood on end.

You reached for your door. You had left it open. The sun pooled through open window illuminating the mess that was your flat. It wasn't the usual organised chaos. It had been trashed. You didn't think your heart could take this many surprises in one week. This much fear.

Despite the sun's rays, it was freezing inside your home, it prickled at your skin, it felt wrong. Books were discarded around the room, your television lay on its face on the carpet. Your laptop had been pushed aside, seemed to be one of the few things unharmed in the mess.

Someone was looking for something. Your stomach pinched in terror. You knew what they were looking for. You ran through your lounge to your bedroom. You slipped on a copy of 'the sin eater's daughter' before falling in your knees. Your left ankle was still a little tender and didn't enjoy the feeling. Fine. You would crawl to your chest. It probably looked rather desperate to anyone who saw, but you didn't care.

Clothes littered the floor of the wardrobe. They had been in here. Your breath hitched. It had been a rushed job, they knew you were coming back. Was it Shield? Did they keep you only to distract you? They knew everything about you, why wouldn't they know about the plaque and the orb? Why would they want them? Did they know what they were?

The chest was at the very back, hidden in the mess. It lay unopened. There was a spike of hope in the fear. There in the old chest when you opened it; was the two objects hidden beneath all the old books. You sighed in relief, you could have melted into a puddle from the relief.

To make sure, you hands longed to touch. The smooth of the opaque sphere and the rough of the poor craftsmanship in the squashed metal tome. _Safe and sound, safe and sound._

If they haven't found it, they could be watching. They could still be in here with you, your eyes widened in alarm. There was an unused, black duffel bag next to you in between the mess. You tossed the two objects in unceremoniously along with a couple of clothes.

You were going to leave. You didn't know where. But the first step was to get as far away from this place as possible. You stood. Bag packed with anything you could get your hands on. Thankfully your credit card was one of the many documents hiding in the chest.

You could feel a presence. Whatever was hunting you, was in the room with you, you could feel it underneath your skin and in the way your heart drummed. You stood with all your belongings. You turned- and still you saw nothing but you knew it was there. It was always there- waiting. You edged out of the room before taking off at a run. You had this disgusting feeling tingling at your body, like being in the same room as the world's largest bird eating spider, it was a feeling you've only ever known to be in a dream. It was an absolute terror you have never felt before in waking life and you hadn't even seen anything. You snagged your laptop on the way out. _Never stop running._

 

You found yourself in the middle of Brooklyn in yet another little coffee joint, your head down and tongue silent. The place was doing that sixties diner thing with the plush leather seats and old T birds. It was the time you spent longest in one place, you caught sleep when you could.

You ordered a house sandwich with money you had got out of an ATM, so not to leave a paper trail- the books you had written had you quite well off. You chose a different order of food each time so not to leave a trail, or the same order-trail? Suppose it was a bit pedantic? You didn't know who was following or what technology they had at their disposal.

You patted your satchel absent mindedly. The news' opening music started playing from a television that might have been shittier than your old one, it sat above everyone in a corner. They were telling everyone to be on alert if you're in Manhattan because Bruce Banner was currently residing in the Stark tower.

You thought it a bit cruel, monitored wherever you went like that. Suppose if the media found out about you they would have an absolute field day, they could have a segment called ‘freak watch’. Soon the plot of ‘the Truman show’ was playing morbidly in your mind.

The news broadcast always had this flow of bad news and then good news, following the story on Banner there were sightings of the man who wears the American flag for a living. Steve Rogers was taking 'selfies' with random people on the street.

It must have been hard for him to adjust to doing this kind of thing, he was probably going about his life waiting for the moment where he wakes up where he belonged. How lonely. But could you talk?

You looked at your sandwich, you didn't particularly feel like eating, you only ordered so you wouldn't be kicked out, you had done this in most places, often not eating at all.

The next story was that of a missing persons. A missing person wasn't any threat to you so you figured you should at least give the sandwich a chance. You had to look the part of you were going to stay here for this long.

Runny fried egg, crispy bacon, green lettuce, chicken breast, a tone of garlic and a smothering of avocado and aioli. It was pretty good, even if you didn't really feel like eating today.

While chewing the sammich you looked around, trying to pick out those who might be tailing you. Someone was looking at you from the counter. You froze mid chew, was it them? They wore a big jacket, and looked decidedly shady with sunglasses on inside. Only douchebags wore sunglasses on inside, those, and actors in cop shows, so- only douchebags.

From the corner of your eye you saw another, a young man in a hoodie and his friend next to him. They were both looking at you. An older lady seemed to forget the coffee in her hand and literally stared at you like your head had become an asparagus. The diner girl looked up at you from making a pot of coffee.

Did you have egg on your face? A teenage girl had the gall to start recording you on her phone. Seriously, what had you done? Your eyes flickered to the television screen once more. There was Tony Stark on the screen as usual, he was explaining something or another and then a photo came up of the person you assumed was missing.

In the background you vaguely heard an obnoxiously loud motorbike in the distance, you were too busy with the photo on the screen to register it. The picture had been taken from an ATM so the quality wasn't all that great, but there was a distinct pair of black rimmed glasses.

Oh, shit. You paled immeasurably. You held the bag closer to you. The diner had gone quiet from the usual banter you'd grown accustomed to in restaurants, everyone in attendance was staring at you in silence wrapped in tension. You wished you had been paying attention.

What did this have to do with Iron Man? You felt the many eyes burning into you. You'd already payed for the sandwich so you figured they couldn't keep you here.

Before standing you pull the glasses off and set them on the table. They were a precautionary, not something that should lead people straight to you. You tried to look more confident than you felt, walking towards the door.

A tall and sturdy man stood in the archway effectively staying your escape. You tried to determine which way he intended to pass on to avoid any of that dancey-feet shenanigans- but he wasn't moving, you didn't dare look him in the eye, your face had only just been on a majority of the screens in the immediate area, you didn't need any extra recognition.

"Excuse me." You all but whispered before trying to push passed, but you were stopped by a large hand on your upper arm. You must have jumped a foot off the ground at the sudden movement. Your eyes snapped up past the hugely wide shoulders of the man and to his face. _Well fuck me._

Though he had darker brows, his hair was rather blond and arranged in a distinctly grown-out, army-like fashion. There was a heroic squarish jawline, angular features, but what sold it was those kind blue eyes.

You were staring up into the face of Steve Rogers. Captain America. He wasn't in uniform, rather a plain getup save for a brown leather jacket. He was the beacon of law enforcement.

How come you didn't feel safe? You didn't know what to do, you weren't prepared for this. Should you run? Should you stay? Stuck between both options you kind of stood there only  gawping.

"Ma'am, do you mind if I have a word?" He held such a dignified way of speaking that made you mourn the forties.

You shouldn't get distracted by the fanfare though. You were so torn. This man had technically saved your life a couple of times, at least not knowing he had. Didn't he deserve a word? Instead of saying anything you gave a slow emotionless nod. Well, you say emotionless, your eyes were probably the widest they'd ever been, somewhere in between shock and terror.

He walked to where you had originally sat, taking a seat opposite the sandwich with a single bite out of it, in the booth, by the window.

So quick to trust, he really expected you to follow? You didn't want to disappoint him. The entire diner watched on with bugging eyes. You stepped begrudgingly, and slowly back to your seat. Your glasses stared at you, as did the soldier. You have been found by the person looking for you, you figured there was no longer any point in leaving them there so you adorned your glasses once more. You patted your duffel bag once more absently, subconsciously feeling for the outline of two objects.

"I think everyone else better clear out," the head waitress called in a heavy Brooklyn accent. The café was instantly filled with people escaping the tension as if there was an impending shoot out at noon.

You picked up the unused napkin in your hand, twirling it up between your fingers nervously. They were leaving because they assumed you to be some sort of villain. -it wasn't far from the truth.

"Ma'am, you are Ms. _____?" He tried to confirm, Coulson's description of you didn't really do you much justice, all he really said was to look out for the glasses and possibly the bare feet. He looked under the table for a second and saw two small, grubby feet, confirming what you wouldn't straight away. -Still, had you met before? Your face- it was so familiar, but he had moments like that with a lot of people having known their parents or grandparents. It was uncanny, and came to gnaw at him that he couldn't quite put his finger on it -though he didn't let it show.

Your were wearing yet another favourite jacket, you always went for something you might see a cool grandma wear. A floral top, high waisted pants, a tan coat that dangled just above your calves. Who would fear an old lady? You would wear a skirt but running in a skirt usually ended in you showing parts of your rather not. You gave another nod paying more attention to the napkin you were slowly turning into a low fibre piece of rope.

"Shield sent me to come find you-"

You jumped slightly at the name. He works for Shield? You look up at him with a steely calculating gaze. So it was Shield that's after you? That sent that -thing to destroy your home? -Steal your artifacts? Looked back at your twirling. It hardly made sense- guess they really did keep you overnight to make it easier to search your house. Your treasures were probably always their end game.

"Tony got sulky when you didn't accept the program, he said he at least wanted to meet you-"

Tony as in Stark? No- he was something of a rockstar in the public eye. He couldn't get sulky. It sounded like a batch half-baked lies. How would he know who you are anyway? "How'd you find me?" You interrupted his story on how the greatest playboy philamprothist to have ever lived wanted to meet you for coffee and chat about life. Sue you if you didn't believe him.

"Coulson put up with Tony’s- complaining for a while. When he gave in he found your home a mess, we thought you were in danger so we posted hourly news bulletins, and on the 'Twitter'." The word came out alien-like from his tongue. Strange times he now lived in to trust an Internet bird and the world with information on general things like eating habits.

You were now seeing how many knots you could make in your new napkin-rope. That's why that teenager was filming you. You didn't like how he said 'we' -and 'worried'? They didn't know you well enough to be worried. But it seemed you tracked over something. "-Wasn't it Shield?" Your words were scarcely a breath in volume. Who do you trust? The man in front of you, that is with a corporation who has stalked you to the point of knowing your preference in footwear? But he was also a beacon of hope. You were simply confused. -if not them, then who? The question gave you chills.

"Why would they do something like that?" Two small lines appeared on his forehead as he frowned, confused.

"-Been following me from the ninth grade, so who knows?" The words came out crueler than you anticipated. Your voice was a little louder now, forming more words than you had before.

"I assure you I didn't know about them following you." He put his hands up, showing you his large palms in a non threatening manner. Shield has so many secrets, even from him. What was so special that Tony had wanted to see you? So special that they tracked you for so long?

You scowled slightly at him, perhaps he was trustworthy but you didn't like Shield. "You want to take me back there." No growl, no emotion, just observation. Four; four knots in the napkin string.

"Originally yes, you are in some sort of trouble and we want to help." Rogers said honestly. All he saw was a young lady- without someone to protect her. What was his shield for if not protecting citizens, not only of America but the world?

There was that 'we' again, he was identifying himself with them. Captain America was really Shield. Your napkin snapped in your hands, "I am in no trouble, I made a mess of my own place, you know, all that psychotic shit-" The poor innocent creature flinched at your cussing. You had no idea what their psychologists had written down for you in their many files, they probably wouldn't put it past you to destroy your own flat. "And I decline going with you- excuse me." You stood having had enough of this conversation though one-sided as it was. Your bag stayed looped on the opposite shoulder. You would never take it off in the first place. You walked past him quickly, so to end the meeting, and perhaps to ship yourself off to Burma, or Egypt or an uninhabited island of the coast of Australia.

Steve Rogers had seen the look on your face when he had grabbed your arm on the way in. That was panic. You had expected someone else; someone else that terrified you. You were in deep enough trouble that you wouldn't even call on Captain America. You were also convinced it was Shield that had overturned the flat. If it wasn't them or you, it could be something much more dangerous. "I can't let you go." He said suddenly. He intended to grab your arm again but you were moving too quickly and he got your bag.

You stopped almost instantaneously. His hand was on your duffel bag. Your back became rigid as your demeanour slowly changed. They weren't after you, they were after the tablet and sphere. Their end game. "Let go of the bag or I'll hurt you." You ground out slowly not facing him, it wasn't a threat it came out laced in fear. You couldn't handle yourself all the time. You were afraid you would become responsible for the death of Captain America. There were these times you just couldn't control your temper, you went against yourself. What you held dear.

He didn't let go, it was the only thing that kept you from leaving, going out there where it wasn't safe for you. What could you possibly do to him? You were a precious little citizen that needed his help.

You whacked his hand away and held your bag close in one swift movement.

He cradled his arm in surprise, he wasn't expecting that. What was Shield hiding about this one? You kept moving towards the door but he was quicker, stepping on the backs of the booth chairs and tables to reach the exit before you. You and the Captain then shared the doorway once more.

He wasn't going to take you back, you'd not let him. What had you heard about him again? That the serum they injected into him within the lab, it made him heal quickly? You pulled the strap of the bag so it was angled toward your back out of harm's way and made some sort of fighting stance you probably got from a movie.

If you weren't trying your earnest Steve probably would have laughed, it looked like a child attempting karate.

"Please let me go." You voice was pleading, scared, despite your fighting stance. _Let the crystal ball and plaque go._

But he couldn't let you go, he was going to save you because that was his damn job. Rogers went for your wrist in an attempt to lock up all appendages, he didn't want to hurt you if he could help it, or even have hurt yourself by trying to punch him. He had regulation handcuffs in his motorcycle jacket, he wanted to cuff you, balance you between himself and his motorcycle's handlebars and take you back to hq.

None of these things were going to happen if _you_ could help it. You were quicker than he thought. His failed gesture of going for your wrist, left him unguarded for a moment, you pushed him backwards with more strength than you intended, he stumbled backwards unblocking the door.

His eyes went wide, did you just push him? How was that possible?

You saw your chance to run, but now it was your turn to underestimate the super hero.

His muscular arms caught you around the middle, dragging you back into the diner. There would be none of that soldier pushing nonsense- he had decided.

You struggled with his broad chest pressed against your back, beating against him half heartedly because you didn't know how far you could push it before harming the super soldier.

You maneuvered a leg between his as he was walking you backwards further into the store. You managed to tangle legs with him, giving a harsh shove backwards, sending him tripping over your foot and onto the ground. He fell with a grunt. Though, you hadn't quite taken into account his arms around your waist. You gave a squeak as he pulled you down with him. You crumbled backwards, Steve Rogers' chest cushioning your fall as you tried fruitlessly, to scramble away.

The super soldier had training, you had nothing. You even lacked conviction and he could could sense it. He dragged your right leg back to him as you were attempting to crawl away and you slid across the floor where he pinned you underneath him. In other circumstances he much rather not treat a lady in such a forward fashion but you were giving him no choice.

Being in such a short distance of the man you couldn't help but take in the scent of apple pie and spiced aftershave, the guy even smelt the way Captain America should, you'd bet he just ate an apple pie or he eats enough of them to exude it from his own skin, the after shave gave the smell of a forties barber, suppose somethings don't change?

You saw no way out of this without seriously trying your strength. You could hurt him _or worse_. You looked up into those baby blues. He had to understand. "Please-" you breathing had already become uneven. Your body writhed around without your permission. You didn't want to go there. You didn't want to be pursued. Goddamn it! Why couldn't everyone just leave you alone? A surge of anger came over you until you couldn't control what happened next.

Captain America saw the sudden change in your eyes before you flung him off of you. Now he was the one on the ground. He saw your arm wind up for a punch. Saw your lips curl into a morbid grin.

It was a hell of a punch. He hadn't felt it but heard it. His eyes had closed in anticipation for a hit to the face, all that happened was a loud crashing in his right ear as he felt the ground shake beneath him and a warmth like a fire against his cheek. When he peeked at his surroundings once more he saw that you had slumped in your the position on top of him. To the right and the tile beside his head held a new fist sized crater in it, straight down to the cement beneath.

You looked down at your hands, your left knuckles were destroyed, the bones of the middle ones kissed the air and blood dripped from the fresh wound. You turned them over. What had you intended to do? They shook, had you really tried to kill Captain America? But -you wanted to didn't you? For a moment- the rush- the _thrill_ overcame. For a moment you wanted to kill Steve Rogers.

The kids they were right. You realised you were still on top of Steve and scooted back and kept going until your back met with a booth's chair. _Monster, monster, monster._ You brought your knees to your chest. Your head was so loud you couldn't even see the good captain sit up in a daze.

You held your hands over your eyes. You just wanted it to stop. The fear, the running, your mind was so loud with screams you had caused and children's taunting you dug your nails into your scalp. You were having trouble breathing again and dizziness overcame. Out of some sort of kindness your brain did indeed overload with oxygen and you got your peace from this world, if not for a while.

 

* * *

 

 

Another cell. You were beginning to tell the within moments of consciousness. At least this one did some sort of attempt to keep you in line. The bed was pretty big; bigger than your own was- its soft sheets had at least two times the fibre count than yours.

You sat up finally and there was a rattling of chains as you did so. As you expected looking down at the cold metal on your wrist. There was a rather long, black-metal chain attached to a cuff on your right wrist. You imagined if you were to measure it, it would span the room. It seemed to be attached to the bed's headboard. It wouldn't hold you for long. It was a mere chain.

Lucky for you captor, you didn't intend to run anymore. You were tired- of all of it. They hadn't touched your clothes this time, your tan jacket was a little worse for wear, there were a couple of holes in the knees of your pants.

How did they expect you to remove your clothes now? Let alone change them- You couldn't help but think this plan of you being chained to a bed, wasn't quite well thought out.

The room was vaguely homily, in an unlived in sort of way, there were brand new appliances adorning the walls of the room, the colour scheme was of warm browns and creams, it was kind of delicious, there was a comfy looking carpet you longed to feel between your toes. But everything was too clean, it needed stacks of books.

There was a door behind you to your right which you assumed lead to a bathroom and another in front to the left which you assumed was the exit because it looked all tech-fancy, the entire right wall was made of glass and looked over the city. Did they really trust you so close to a window? It could be bulletproof, you could give it a tap to find out.

You tugged at the chain but it didn't budge, seems this thing was stronger than you had first thought. You used it to puppeteer you hand around a bit before letting your hand land on your lap. Then you heard a chuckle from the corner of the room. You froze. The prick snuck up on you.

"Oh no, keep going, I'd like to see your rendition of Pinocchio featuring your hand puppet thing you've got going on there." He had a kind of husky voice that dripped self confidence.

You cocked your head, so this was Tony Stark? He had an arrogance that swallowed up the room. Out of impulse you hurriedly reached for your thick rimmed glasses that someone had left on the table beside your bed.

He recline lazily in a spongy, cream upholstered armchair in the corner of the room. ACDC was splayed across his chest, it was a cheap cotton shirt so you could see the faint blue glow of the Arc Reactor in the center, that’s an interesting piece of tech and you knew it quite well. Still you said nothing, you figured he was the type to speak for himself or even more likely _to_ himself.

He cocked a brow at your need for unneeded glassed. "I wouldn't bother with the chains, they're made from a polymer structure I came up with studying Asgardian metals. Somewhere between magnesium, a dash of vibranium and buckminsterfullerene and a lot of big words you wouldn't understand." He said carelessly, looking down on you. -indeed, keep your friends rich and your enemies rich, then you'll find out which is which; he had thought it absently. It was something he had come to plate on his most recent adaption of the suit.

My, he was quite tall upon that high horse, since he had said it you probably shouldn't bother with the chains. You kind of want to be around the day he falls off that horse. In fact you felt yourself beginning to want to be the one to have pushed him from it. You had a general hate for those who look down on others, you wouldn't have thought Stark to be this way, he was a rock star, a hero. You didn't think he was this- You've forgotten something. Your eyes scanned around before panic sets in. "Where's my bag?" You almost ordered in a rushed tone.

"Oh, so you can speak." There was an upturn of his lip that skewed his dark and well groomed facial hair slightly. "I thought you'd be more inclined to ask where you are, and you, Ms.______, are my guest amongst humble abode in Avengers’ tower," he said dramatically, the lip skew came into play once more.

What a nasty smirk! Avengers’ hq? You'd much like to poke around this place, but he wasn't taking you seriously all bound up like this and you needed your bag.

You'd bet that the chain couldn't quite reach as far as him over there in the corner of the room, it dawned on you that chair was probably not meant for you but the person to supervise you. You internally groaned, a supervisor, gross. More importantly, "I'll do all that you say- just- my bag." You surrendered because nothing else mattered.

This was your first conversation and you were already begging? Interesting. He stroked his scruffy chin. What was so important about the contents of this bag?

Bastard wasn't paying attention. You didn't want to have to do this. You gave a sudden yank at the chain with all your might and there was a sound of warping metal, it had broke from its anchor within the plain metal headboard, all but snapping the bed's pretty head in two. You saw Stark's brows reaching for his hairline as you swung the thing around in your hands. "My bag." You demanded quietly letting the threat make itself.

Tony made a sound somewhere between a cough and a groan. He didn't think of the headboard, it was literal metal too! He had no gauge on you strength yet, he had thought he had you made. "I think I'm going to like you." He confessed.

"I don't reciprocate." Your voice was always quiet and cold. You weren't here to be friends. You were here so they could do what they liked and let you go. Disrupting your existence yet again. Damn Shield.

He clutched as his chest dramatically as if you had shot him through the the Arch Reactor with an arrow then recovered to make orders "Jarvis, could you arrange for ______'s things to be returned to her." He seemed to all of a sudden start speaking to absolutely no one.

You were very right in thinking he spoke to himself. What terrified you was the fact that a voice answered back.

"Of course Sir, is your heart okay? I could send up some ice for that burn." A straightforward calm voice with some sort of English accent quipped.

It took a while for it to set in that the voice had made a joke. You scrunched your face slightly, not only had he created an AI for his tower to run off but he thought to give it a sense of humour?

"Oh yeah," started Tony ignoring the jest, "_______, this is Just.A.Rather.Intelligent.System," he gestured to nothing in particular. "Jarvis; _______," he introduced.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. _______," The AI greeted.

Still not being one for words you gave a wave hoping a camera somewhere would pick it up.

There was a bit of an awkward pause, Tony was expecting to have to sift through hundreds of questions as to why a bunch of super heroes had all but kidnapped you away.

You had already assumed they either wanted to see how your red and jiggly bits worked on the inside or found you a danger to society so they wanted to lock you away. It's all anyone ever wanted from you. Or it could be something to do with the Avenger's Initiative which you had already very much turned down. Something told you Mr. Stark wasn't one for giving up so easily. Either way your hands jittered around in your lap.

"Your file did say extreme anxiety disorder," he said knowingly, looking to where your hands were fidgeting on the bed.

Was he scoffing at your stupid disposition? How cruel.

"I wondered how someone as strong and as indestructible as you could have anxiety-" He stood finally walking over to you. Probably what had him curious in the first place, your file looked a lot like- his own.

He wasn't afraid? What the hell did he want? You flinched away slightly but he still put a hand on your shoulder. A hand? Comforting hand? This must be a ploy.

"You must have seem some serious shit." Images of the Chitauri flowed back into his mind, and the falling, falling without expectation of ever returning to this world.

Tony Stark was consoling you? You only just met the guy. It was weird. Too nice, something must be wrong with this situation. He was overcome with a distant look, he had gone somewhere else. He couldn't possibly know this feeling could he? The great and strong hero of the people?

You looked down at you hands. He probably didn't intend for you to see something like that so you kept quite still. He smelt of machine oil and an abrasive cologne your strong nose couldn't help but notice it, the perfume; you thought, matched his arrogance but the underlying petrol showed that he probably could back up such obnoxious tendencies with hard work.

"Okay let's be honest here, you were just sniffing me weren't you? Didn't think we'd notice -but we did" he backed off a little.

You wanted to hide away and die from being caught.  A slight blush powdered your nose.

"That's so weird," he scoffed but was studying you still, going back to his scientist side. "Coulson said you did that."

He noticed too? You thought you were so discreet, now you really did just want to hide under the bed covers and disappear forever. You tried to play it off with a shrug. "Good nose." You mumbled.

Tony stroked his chin some more at this. "Hmmm, well Pepper has been bothering me for a puppy." His mind went affectionately to the red head.

Puppy?! You were something to be feared! You were the night and the darkness and -

"Princess, your things seem to be here." Yes- Princess, a perfect puppy name. Well, you can't expect to go sniffing around here like that and not have any repercussions. Especially around him.

Princess? This was an outrage, how was he taking you so lightly?! Come to think of it you could hear heavy boots walking this way.

"Quick before they open the door, what do they smell like?" There was a spark in his eye like he had just got a new toy and he wanted to test it.

Most people would be freaked out to know the weird things you do, but not this guy he wanted to stretch it, push limits. Which sounded like both a good and bad thing. Nevertheless, you felt you had to do it to prove you weren't a little liar. And that you didn't go around smelling people -without reason. _Sniff, sniff_. Like a manly sweat, shaving cream and- yep, apple pie. "It's Steve Rogers." You said quietly before the door opened to reveal exactly that.

Tony gave you a look that said, ‘you went out of your way to sniff this guy too didn't you? You nasty ass’.

Is there a limit to the embarrassment someone can hold? You could see the black duffel bag dangling from his hand. Your leered hungrily at it.

"Hello again Ms._______," The Captain smiled handsomely.

The guy was literally smiling after you almost killed him. You didn't say anything in response, you didn't know what was socially acceptable.

"Ahoy Cap-cicle," He chuckled as if he hadn't made that joke a thousand times, Tony held up a hand to stop Steve from passing on the bag, "What's in the bag Princess?" He asked suspiciously pointing at it as if it were something as nasty as your sniffing habit.

Was this puppy name going to really stick?

Rogers seemed to cock his head at the sentiment.

"It's my laptop," You lied. "-I'm a writer." You figured that would explain your need for your bag near enough. Never underestimate the love an author holds for their laptop.

Without second thought Tony snatched the bag from Cap, who was taken very much off guard.

"No!" You reacted instantly and Stark arched a brow. "D-dirty clothes in there." You confessed in a mumble.

At this Captain reacted, "You're going to go through a woman's privates?" He was awfully taken aback this time, this was an utter violation!

"Calm down old-man and -well, we aren't sure what you are just yet are we?" Stark looked at the two hostile people in the room, slowly putting his hand into the bag bringing out your laptop as if defusing a bomb and tossing the bag on the bed without seeing your two most precious possessions. "I was just going give your laptop a once over after I hear you went a couple rounds with our resident fossil over there. -Wouldn't be hiding something sneaky in the Internet history would we?" Did he just wriggle his brows at you?

There was an obvious blush on Steve's face, even he knew what Tony was implying.

He opened the laptop and inspected the screen, flipped it over to see the back, there were no signs of cracks or anything, however, there were many signs of tampering. What had you done to this poor thing? "It looks fine from what I can tell, but you can never know unless you turn it on, because you could have cracked a motherboard or something." He again attained a lazy tone as if he was the smartest man alive.

For all you knew, he could very well be- didn't mean you liked his tone.

"Do you have a charger? When was the last time you charged this thing?" He frowned after holding down the general power button and nothing happening

"Three years," you shrugged, you felt a little cocky for a moment before realising the weight of the situation. That was Tony Stark reviewing your shotty tampering.

He had to make a double take, you couldn't mean literally? Was this sarcasm? Wouldn't he know? He was Lord Sarcasm. Maybe his was your attempt at fitting in? Your file said something along the lines of 'socially inept', you were the most precious thing if you couldn't figure out sarcasm. That's when he saw where the charging port should be. " _What_ did you do to this?"

You wanted to shrink into yourself. Become a turtle. "-put more RAM, so to fit all my books." You eased out. And years of movies to feed an unhealthy addiction. Steve was becoming a wallflower at this point, he had his arms crossed over his chest, making his shoulders look impossibly big. Should he leave?

"I can see that, how do you power it?" It almost sounded as if he was mad that you would desecrate a machine in this manner, where you put your new RAM boards in was probably where you should of had the battery.

"The switch," you gave another shrug, you felt you were getting in trouble by the teacher, you fiddled with the sheets on the bed.

Tony snapped the crudely placed switch on the side next to the cd drive, there was a sound of powering up, then from the cooling vents and under the keyboard a faint green glow appeared. The screen turned up showing the old windows xp.

You had always preferred that system; user friendly.

Stark cocked a brow, it was all eyebrows with this guy. He was questioning, "is that what I think it is?"

Tired of being the only person in the room not knowing what's going on Steve sighed out loud, "What is it?" He missed the days where things did what they did and weren't questioned.

"Why is yours green?" He frowned ignoring Steve. Was it sick? Or a little bit more special? Now he was questioning if it was better than his own. Who was he dealing with here? He would have to look over your school records again.

"Trial and error- I thought chloride's gasses might power it, when I found the right components- I added it because-" you trailed off.

"Because?" Stark prompted looking intrigued at the mention of chloride.

"-thought it looked cool," you mumbled looking at the sheet in your hands.

"You added a poisonous gas to a bunch of hyper reactive chemicals because you thought it would look cool?" His voice got higher as he spoke.

"It has suspension to stop- you know- 'boom'." You reasoned quietly trying to defend yourself. The little suspension rig however wouldn't hold back someone who really intended to smash the laptop, but you left that part out. You had essentially created a bomb, if it cracked, _kapow_. You were probably in quite a lot of trouble.

How does someone so scared go out of their way to take such a risk? Stark found you a complete enigma, none of these things were on your file. He put your laptop down on the bedside table before walking to the large window.

His facade was unreadable all you could see was his back. You looked to Steve and he just shrugged. Were you about to have your ass handed to you? Well, you had endangered a lot of New York with your creation. Would they call in a bomb squad? This could be counted as terrorism, skip the cutting up, it would be the electric chair for you.

"Genius!" Stark all but yelled, facing the window.

He was praising you?

"Absolutely fucking genius, you created an Arch Reactor, how?" He turned around eyes alight.

Steve seemed to have caught on and looked at you weirdly he also had flinched massively at the f-bomb. He resisted the urge to tut.

"You put it in the name-" and it felt like a challenge to your intelligence; so you took him up on it, not that you ever intended on meeting him. "-harnessing the power of a constant chemical reaction, a self contained explosion, plasma. Trial and error." You repeated "-yeah." Locked up in a room for years you had to do something with your time- so you read. _Everything_. You remember every fail you ever had, you felt someone was going to call you up on the strange smells and sounds coming from your room, but no one ever did. You had acid-burnt yourself many times, even choked on poisonous gasses at one point but the healing factor left you with only a couple of scars on your hands and maybe your lungs.

"What, in your bathtub at home? They've been monitoring you for years and you never left that house." His forehead creased together.

"-the Internet," It was a one word answer to most things, you never know what you can get your hands on from the Internet- you suspected your mail searched so you made odd requests to hide orders in various packages- It looked like you ate pizza a lot more than often. What was he surprised about? He made it in a tin shed in the Middle East. Naturally you weren't as smart as him, you had all the time in the world to figure the thing out, it was more or less just a hobby but praise from someone like him? You couldn't help but feel giddy; even if he wasn't the Tony Stark you anticipated. There was a long pause where Stark was just looking over the laptop.

"Uh- what's the plan now?" The captain finally got a response.

"We have to wait for Fury to do anything," Tony had taken to playing Galaga on your laptop still marvelling every now and again, he didn't like the idea of waiting for orders but they took a vote on what they should do and it rounded up to calling mum for help. "After the little spat at the diner you have to be watched twenty four seven until then." He pulled a straight face and looked almost apologetically at you as if to say 'not my idea'. "Either way," he stood. "Do you mind if I show this to my science bro? He'll be very impressed." He pointed to the door. He also wanted to figure out if the chloride did anything else other than ‘make it look cool.’

You sighed before shrugging, he would probably do it anyway, he skidded off like a happy child and the door closed automatically behind him. You didn't care so much anyway, you just wanted the bag. Now it was only you and Steve.

Well, this was awkward. It hung in the air like a great, dead goat; the fact that last time you were conscious around him, you almost exploded his face with your fist. You weren't good at people. It was up there with your many faults, you thought it good to always know your faults; means people wouldn't use them against you.

You knew what you had to do... "Uh- Steve?" You felt weird not referring him as Captain America but assumed he probably likes his real name rather than the former.

"Hmm?" He made a sound of acknowledgement, he was staring out the window, thinking of a former-soldier he met out on a run once before. He'd posed the question about getting out of the war zone. It had been playing on him for a while.

"At the diner-" you words faded with your resolve- you had given into the monster people saw you to be; the lurking bloodlust.

"Don't worry about it ma'am, I doubt you would have hurt me all that bad-" he lied in his heroic Captain America voice, honestly he didn't know what would have happened if that fist landed.

You looked at him unconvinced.

"Hey, you stopped yourself, that's all that matters. You aren't a bad person."

You look into those heroic blue eyes. Yet another person to say that, how did they know? Did they have cue cards on what to say when speaking to you written out by the psych team? An author's imagination ran wild. Your head dropped again, "-________," you said finally.

"Excuse me?" He asked politely.

"My name, - not ma'am." You said bluntly in a usual rude manner though you meant well. You looked up from where you were staring absentmindedly, you had trouble looking people in the eye while speaking to them, you were lucky to be able to form words in the first place. You were met with a friendly smile from him, you might like this one- you had decided.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your love and sweet comments  
> 14 kudos c,,: you're all so kind c,:


	3. Go Go Power Rangers

Within the first day you had gotten yourself very acquainted with the huge bath in your ensuite after battling the chain through your clothes to remove them. Fucking Stark. At first you'd thought it was him not thinking it through to stick you with this chain. But no, he would have thought about it, laughed and proceeded to chain you up. 

Seriously though, when was the last time you had a bath? You grimaced thinking of the fate that befell your own bathtub.  _ Sorry bathtub _ . You scrubbed at your feet while in thought, they were utter filth, the soles were black with god-knows-what from sleeping in alleyways. The life on the run wasn't exactly a glamorous one, but sometimes surviving was dirty work. 

The chain of Stark's metal was left to dangle around your wrist. You inspected it, it was an onyx black, guess that was to be expected with buckminsterfullerene? It was only a centimeter thick but was strong. Suppose you were stuck with it? Knowing Stark he would find a better anchor point for it, after showing him your immature attempt at his Arch Reactor you didn't think he was going to let you go that easy not when you were perfectly capable of creating your own atomic bomb in a basement. He'd call it ‘protection’ for the rest of the world, but really, you were here to be his science project. 

The soaps left in the bathroom for you smelt delicious and after a couple of days without bathing this got you one step closer to feeling human. You had planned to go to one of those 'pay by the hour' hotels for a wash shortly after the news in that cafe but it never happened. In all this luxury, you were on a knife’s edge, expecting people in white coats to come out of the walls with scalpels at any point. Guess you should take it as it comes? And enjoy the peace you had for now.

* * *

 

It was soon news o’clock when your next visitor appeared, the cameras had watched you until then. You were sitting on ‘your’(?) bed, in new pyjamas provided by Stark. You had gotten lost in one of the books left for you on the large shelf by the right, near the couch placed in between the bed’s end and TV. And yes, Shield knew your reading material well. 

The pjs were a pink satin pants and singlet. You don't think you've ever felt so luxurious, smelling all fresh from your bath and sitting upon such a nice, warm bed, watching TV that was ‘ _ that’ _ big and didn't give a nasty  _ thunk _ when you turned it on. You had stashed your bag away in the draw beside your bed after ridding it of the dirty clothes. The news was just beginning and you tossed the book aside when another tall blond knocked on your door. Would you ever get to watch the news without interruption? 

"Come in," you invited bluntly. They were polite enough to knock so you assumed it wasn't Stark and you smelt no apple pie so you guessed it wasn't Steve Rogers. A third foreign body. You sniffed slightly before the door could open. It was strange, it was almost like he was masking his scent purposefully. 

There was a general masculine scent that was of this person that no one can truly be rid of and maybe, just a bit of plain soap? And a light of- a farm? In New York? There was something a little familiar about it, had you come in contact with this person before? Or was it a lingering scent of avengers’ tower? Your nose twitched trying to remember. 

The man entered moments later, he too, had the whole blond hair and blue eyes thing going for him. Was this a common trend for heroes? His face held a few extra lines, you wouldn't chuck it up to age, more likely a serious demeanour. He looked a little bit like a hard ass. He had deep smile lines and creases in his forehead, he must spend a lot of time squinting or focusing. He wasn't built like the Captain, then again you didn't think anyone was build like the Captain, but the dark vest he wore definitely showed off some nice arms. You hadn't seen this one on television, was his work more covert? Interesting.

He held out a silver tray to you that had a series of different sized cloches on it. You accepted it wordlessly, balancing it on you knees, sitting cross legged. Then he perched quietly in the seat you had dubbed 'the supervisor's chair'. 

You looked at the still cloched food and back to him. Was that it? Was he really not going to speak? You scrunched up you face a bit. You sniffed again, damn, who was this guy? You shrugged, you should respect people's space of you want them to respect yours. 

The first plate was full of the most delicious red wine pasta. You watched as the news guy explained vaguely that Captain America had to take someone down in a public restaurant. The pasta stopped half way towards your mouth as you saw yourself with in the television, raise a fist to him, this picture was phone quality but it was clear enough to remember it perfectly. Your appetite kind of dispersed from there. You replace the fork and the cover once more and looked apologetically to the man in the tactical vest. He had came all this way from you to only eat a couple of mouthfuls of bolognaise.

"Why do you watch the news then if it upsets you?" He answered your apologetic smile coldly- his voice had a deep and rusty tone. Despite the chill in his sudden voice you found it comforting, like an old friend.

It was almost as if he knew it was your ritual. He spoke as cold and as cruelly as you would someone you've known for a long time. Damn it who was he? "Because I need to know what's going on in the world," you answered shrewdly. You were acting just the same; you felt yourself hold back poking your tongue out at the guy. You had to make sure what now hid in your bedside table was safe, if aliens were to sprout from the ground suddenly, you would be the first to run, to protect what you had hidden.

He crossed his arms in defiance, "I am not leaving until you've at least eaten your pasta." You shouldn't avoid food like that, he knew full well you hadn't eaten all day.

It was almost childish, was this what it was like to have a big brother? You scowled. You didn't think you liked it. It really didn't look like he was leaving, he wasn't even looking at you. You retrieve the pasta once more making a face to show you discontentment while munching on it.

"Where are you from?" He asked ever so suddenly, taking you rather off guard.

"Wouldn't your files say?" you cocked your head to the side with the fork in your mouth. They knew you didn't like shoes on your feet, something as little as that they should already know. What was the point in grilling?

"That's the problem, there is nothing on where you came from." He explained as if the fact irritated him like a niggling rash. They had nothing on you until five years ago.

"I don't know where I came from." You had said it more to the spaghetti than to the other in the room. Why were you giving him information? Opening to this scent less person. Still, your lack of memory was something to perplex you, in fact, you'd say it ruled your life. No parents, no family, no friends, only two strange instruments you somehow knew you always had to keep safe. They were your friends, your family,  _ safe and sound, safe and sound _ . 

You played with a limp noodle on your fork. It was sad wasn't it? Was it just greed? Did you want them for yourself? The idea made you feel hollow in your stomach. No, there was something more, something you didn't like to think about.

"Then do you at least know who is after you?" This man was awful probing, but his words were softer this time. 

His attempt at kindness slid right passed you, your general knowledge on how people acted lacked after years of solitude. "Haven't the foggiest," you replied bluntly, muffled by a huge mouthful of bolognese which was just a cherry on top of your rude demeanour.

Were you even taking him seriously? "How can I protect you if you tell me anything?" Was that anger? "-I mean we, how are  _ we _ going to protect you from something if we don't know what it is?"

Well- that was sudden burst of affection, not only does he know some habits but he had taken it upon himself to be your protector? This was kind of strange, was he a fan of your books? You gave a shrug. "I don't know what's chasing me or why," you lied about the why part, you were pretty sure of what they wanted and they lay two feet away. 

He didn't accept that- yet picked up that you had said 'what' instead of 'who'. He had decided he had showed enough emotion for one day and so shut off any expression that was on his face and stayed quiet.

The next story on the television was of course an uplifting one, something about a new kitten shelter in Newark. There was a particular little black one that caught your eye. Your thoughts went helplessly back to Sebastian. His velvet ears, little black nose, that man musk he seemed to wear. You could almost smell it. In fact. You could smell it. You opened your mouth in an exclamation of surprise, releasing some pasta in a most undignified way. You stared straight at the stranger. 

"Sebastian?" You asked before you could even realise how dumb it sounded to call someone suddenly by your old cat's name.

"If you're going to spit the pasta everywhere just pass it to me and I'll take it back to the kitchen." He didn't even acknowledge the name.

"Have you seen a little black cat with green eyes anywhere?" You asked suddenly. Maybe you were going mental from the creature ditching you.

The blond froze a little, but recovered quickly. "I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied shortly retrieving the tray from you, snatching the fork from your hand. He then turned to the door.

He was just leaving? Not even giving you a name? You crossed your arms over your chest, there was definitely something there, you could feel it. The nose knows.

* * *

 

_ There was a sudden glint of crimson eyes against blue faces. There was a deathly feeling of cold. Harsh and vile laughter came spilling from their mouths. You could do nothing but look on as twisted yellowing teeth behind azure lips cackled away. Your stomach fell from you to see what caused such glee. The world as you knew it burned in freezing blue flames. Flames that licked through cities and towns, some you had seen, others you had just heard of, all smouldering, standing still forever, women's screams ended before they could start, the yells of men, the gurgles of children stayed unmade, never finding the surface. Where were the heroes? Were they all dead? Even someone as cowardly as yourself wanted to do something about it but you couldn't even lift your legs to run. _

 

You woke to the bed sheets constricting you as cold sweat had them stick to you, a bright light and equally as bright bluish eyes. He looked worried, for you? Captain? You pulled yourself up. Some of your hair stuck to your face which was as pale as death. You swiped some of the sweat from your neck with shaking hands.

"What's wrong?" He asked again because you hadn't heard it the first time.

"Just a dream." You panted. Honestly you felt a little sick and very dizzy. You tried to stand but Steve wouldn't let you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Cap, let her go," ordered a voice from behind, again it was almost as if he knew. That cat-man was seriously creepy.

You had just enough time to close yourself in the the bathroom and hope that they couldn't hear too much of how violently sick you were in the toilet bowl. Your chain jingled as you went.  You crumbled there at the foot of the toilet for a while, that red wine pasta certainly tasted better on the way in. 

You didn't want to go back out there- that was Captain America out there, and a human version of your cat. You sat listening to the room next to you- yeah, they weren't leaving. Guess you should face the music? You couldn't stay in here forever. You used some mouthwash that Stark tower provided for you, to get some of that distinct flavour from your mouth and hopefully from your breath. That was awful. Not the first time you had that dream. Or that reaction to it. It had haunted you for years.

"What was that?" You're new brother type figure piped up. It seemed there were a couple more people now residing in you room. A woman with a red bob of thick hair and some mighty fine features. And a man with a few greying hairs in his dark mop, and a pair of very dark eyes you could happily get lost in. That was Banner, you had seen that one on the television many times. Stark was also there with an unreadable expression-hard to tell what that one is thinking- probably a million things at once.

You crawled back onto your bed, this was a little too many people than you were used to, which was none at all, and they were all looking at you expectantly. You couldn't form words, it's like you forgot how to, all you could do was look out the window to the night's city scape. You wanted to crawl up into a ball and disappear, all your fears and issues just out on display for these people.

"Maybe one of you two should look after this-" Bruce's voice was calm, almost eerily so, but he was deep and understanding when referencing toward Steve and the Sebastian wannabe. He knew Stark could be a little abrasive, and those two you had met before.

There were a few solemn nods before most of them room left. Seems both were reluctant to leave so they both awkwardly stayed.

The vested man looked to Cap as if to tell him to leave. He would handle this.

Steve looked back at him with the the same intention, he had technically spent the most time with you- and there was still something reminiscent about you.

"Why were people here?" You interrupted what had become a staring competition, you were thoroughly confused, it was a little dream, you dreamed a lot of the time, it was in fact one of your favourite things to do, perhaps not that one- but still. You take the good with the bad, that's how life is. It wasn't something that called for a bunch of heroes to enter what you have decided was your space.

"You were kind of screaming." Cap replied in a grimace, "we thought you were -getting murdered." He remembered being alerted by Jarvis and then he was barely able to keep up with the vested man, and considering he was a super soldier it was saying quite a lot.

Oh, wow, you didn't know you were a vocal dreamer, that could get embarrassing -to call out in any way let alone with such volume to wake a tower, you didn't think dreams were capable. Did those in your apparent mention building have to deal with it too? You grimaced. Come to think of it your throat was a little peaky. 

You wanted to crawl under the bed and hide for a while, but the other two in the room probably wanted an explanation, you frowned thinking of something. "I have dreams and I write stories from them- that one, will be my last story." You made distant face. Components were missing you still haven't worked out the reason why the world freezes over or who that person was laughing. "It's nothing to worry about-" you recovered.

"Your last story?" The man who still adorned a vest rather than pyjamas spoke from the other side of the room. –he didn't think he liked the sound of that. Last story before what?

You hadn't really thought about the wording, it just sort of came out. "I'm a writer, melodrama is a thing." Still you frowned. Last story?

Steve considered this but the other was none too convinced.

Rogers thought you looked rather pale, an archer had told him you didn't eat much at dinner and it seemed to be a common trend for anyone who had brought you food -"Is there anything you need?" Cap asked softly.

What was up with these people? You scruffed up your hair trying to relieve yourself of some of that sickly moist feeling. You shook your head, they seem to forget you lived alone for so long, this was nothing to that time you blew up your own bathtub trying to recreate Stark's Arc Reactor. 

You were selfish, you looked out for yourself without need for anyone else, you hoped people would treat you the same. Getting close wasn't something you wanted or needed. 

You hadn't even realised the other in the vest, had gone until he came back with a glass of milk. Your eyes grew slitted, it felt like a trick, this guy knew you would want a drink of milk after a bad dream? You accepted it without words but still stared at him under much scrutiny, you had still wanted the milk anyway even with the creepy circumstance. The milk went down extra cold because of the mouthwash, making it more than refreshing.

The nameless man didn't want to laugh but you looked like you were doing a really bad Clint Eastwood impression while sporting a white milk moustache. You had the untrusting disposition of the cat you had lived with for so long. He made a slight coughing sound and stared out the window to hide any humor your antics may crack out of his stoic mask.

Steve put a big palm on your head and messed your hair up even more than you already had, a deep smile on his face because he could see what the other could. Just who were you? How did he know your face? How had he come to like you so much?

The entire time you didn't stop glaring at the man in the vest while drinking the milk.

* * *

 

_ Jealousy is a poison far greater than any snake's. He learnt this the hard way as it consumed him. He grew bitter and twisted. How he loathed his brother, loved by all, even those who had not learnt his name knew his feats. Skadi was a beautiful and fair woman. She stood by his punishment. The fathers decreed for what he has done he may withstand a real snake's poison, to feel the pain that he had caused for everyone who loved his own brother. Skadi stood by her lover through the torment of others, shielding him with her own body as the viper's acid burned her perfect skin rather than his. "Why couldn't you hear me when I praised you? How come the praise they gave to Baldur was louder than your own wife's for you?" Her voice was broken from the feel of the snake. What had he done? _

Should you really be writing this? You didn't yet know the name of the main character, suppose you could sneakily slip it in later? Or should you leave it ambiguous? Make sure all learn from the mistakes of this on fictional nameless person? You cradled your head the chain; jingling around your wrist. You had met everyone at this time. 

 

Tony came up with a solution to chaining you up. Not that he really thought you'd run away, it was more the challenge of the thing, so now on the other end of the chain was a Stark's-metal box. The black metal was actually rather light so inside he filled it to the brim with lead pellets- or so he told you, you thought it heavier than lead. He expected it was about one tonne, making it half a tonne heavier than has been recorded to be lifted by a normal human. 

He had said it so smugly you felt like picking the thing up and dropping it on his foot. When he was out of the room of course you tried to lift it, it couldn't be that heavy could it? You barely got it and inch off the ground before deciding it was time to have a bit of a lie down. 

You met Agent Natasha Romanoff, as she brought you lunch. Just came in here wearing that skin tight black do, your femininity wasn't threatened in the slightest. Nope. Not even a little. She had been kind and asked if you were okay after the other night, it felt like a facade. You couldn't tell if she really cared or if she was thinking of you as a job. People were treating you as something breakable and it bothered you. You attempted to pick up the box again, a little higher this time. 

Bruce Banner made himself known at dinner. He was nice enough to bring his food in too so you wouldn't be alone. He sympathised with the chains, he had told Stark they weren't necessary but he wouldn't listen, he'd made a self deprecating joke of how he should probably be the one in chains which had left you in a bit of a somber mood. Banner was a lovelier person then the news gave credit. 

When Stark was done playing with it, you were given back your laptop, which was essentially a bomb. You wondered what Stark was thinking; giving you a highly explosive laptop and yet chaining up your right wrist? You lifted the little shoebox sized box about waist high this time. Every time you think about Tony sitting somewhere laughing while you were stuck in this little room you lifted it once more.

And so by the time you were up for writing you could bring it up to your chest, still you sat on your bed rereading over the paragraph wondering if a name was really needed. There was no knock at the door but you could tell who it was before he made it in. There was no mistaking that cinnamon and apples- you could almost hear a bald eagle screeching in the distance. You had moments like this with most of the heroes, it seemed they wanted to save you from boredom while waiting for someone named ‘Fury’ to tell them what to do with you.

A big hand came to mess your hair up, he found he liked to do that after the night of the nightmare. Like meeting a kid at the baseball. "What are you doing?" The blond Steve asked, as your nose was still in your laptop, not really knowing it was considered rude to not have eye contact with the one speaking.

"I had a good dream- I'm writing." You shifted your glasses higher on your nose with your short description.

Steve was becoming accustomed with the fact you kept your words short, every now and again your would surprise with a full sentence but not often. "And what is this story about?"

You finally looked to him. He was perched on the end of the bed by your feet, he was wearing a tight shirt the same shade as his eyes and a pair of grey sweat pants. He must have just got off training. You considered this. You were curious- "Lift that- I'll tell you." You gave a small smile pointing to your little black box. It appeared he didn't yet know of Tony's stupid 'lead' box.

He leant down without question as the soldier he was, realising it was a lot heavier than it looked he bent his knees, with a sight of rippling muscles he lifted it over his head. 

Ah, so he definitely was stronger than what you were. You found that slightly comforting. 

He slowly lowered the thing back to the ground not wanting to break the flooring. "There," he puffed a little. "Will you tell me now?"

You thought for a while, to sum it up without ruining it too much... "It's a cruel story that depicts what it is like to small and to feel unworthy, to know jealousy, and a reminder to take compliments when they come to you." You explained vaguely. 

This struck a chord with the Captain, "I was the little guy once," he was short, skinny and asthmatic. Perfect target practise for any man's fist.

You cocked your head to the side, you weren't exactly up on your heroes one oh one, just accepted that they were there and saw their feats on the news. You never really got the concept of them being real people- until this week; how could you? They might as well be gods amongst men, one; literally. 

Such a big guy like Cap, it was hard to believe, you knew of the serum but assumed he was probably out there trying to save people beforehand with some sort of human strength. You said nothing but the fact that you no longer played with your laptop and had your eyes on him said you wanted him to continue.

He met you with blue eyes, "I didn't like bullies, every now and again I would agitate one and they would take me to the alley, I couldn't hold my own as well as I thought I could, I still hated the injustice- my friend James Barnes pulled me out of so many of those fights." He added distantly before remembering himself, "I was small before the serum, I was stupid but I don't regret it, if I wasn't that person then; I wouldn't be who I am now. That's how I was chosen. Because the strong man who has known power all his life, may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion." He recited those words like an old friend had said them. He looked distanced thinking of the people he missed.

Oh you didn't like that, not at all. In the selfish little world that you controlled, you didn't want to see Cap sad. He was a hero, it wouldn't be fair to have him sad, he deserved to be happier than anyone. You wanted to help him, to let him know you had felt it too. To know he wasn't alone. To see that handsome smile, to have him mess with your hair; be the unbreakable hero you once thought he was. 

There was quiet before you said anything. You weren't too good with these things, would it help anyone? You searched for your words in your hands still placed on your keyboard. "Mid way through eighth was when it started. The kids -were cruel." You nose wrinkled in something that looked like disgust, "-Called me Alien for being as smart as I was and not speaking often. I came to sit at the back of classes to daydream- to dodge student's attention." And their spit balls. "One day I was pushed over on the stairs by-" no, you couldn't say his name, "the wounds on my knees healed in place and my shoulder just kind of popped back in from being put out. They came up with a new name for me that day-"  _ monster.  _ But by that time your words had already trailed off. You bit into your lip. 

You didn't cry, they would only be fool's tears you didn't deserve to make. You hadn't even got to the worst part but your voice was already gone. You looked up to Steve with his big blue eyes. He must have read your file, he would already know your story's ending.

It was clear your mouth refused to go on, you made a face of someone holding back an onslaught of tears. "It's okay Soldier we all have our battlefields, we little guys have to stick together." He messed with your hair again. 

He was consoling you? For what you did? So kind. "You miss those people." You acknowledged solemnly; recovering from your own memories. "-tell me about them?" Who were these people that built this great man? Others might have questioned if it was right to ask, but it almost came out as a demand when you said it.

"Yes of course," anything to have their memory live on, anything to relive those moments through another's eyes. 

You like the way he sparkled in the idea.

"-You would have liked Bucky, I am sure he would have wanted to stand up for you too. I've known him my entire life. -well, we met in school. There was this one time-" and Rogers spoke of how they had snuck into a movie together and then had to run for the hills when they were caught, spoke of how he had been brought up in the orphanage, but the great guy he was, it didn't put a damper on his kindness or sense of humour and how he always managed to get a girl to go dancing with, even could scrounge up a date for Steve's scrawnier, uncoordinated self. By the end of it even you missed James Buchanan Barnes.

* * *

 

You woke to a smell you could only associate with James Bond, crisp clean, the scent of dry cleaners and cologne. You opened your eyes to Phil Coulson sitting in the overseer's chair, his suit perfect and with a tray on his lap. This was certainly a more appealing way to be woken over how Tony does it with the stealing of blankets. You sat up groggily.

"Ah, a smile on your face. That is interesting to see." The older agent returned the smile you didn't know you wore, "Might I've been right in suggesting the Avenger's Initiative?" He passed you what you knew to be count chocula in a bowl of cold milk under a silver cloche. 

You didn't want to admit it, but you were kind of liking it here, even if it was just one room of a treasure trove of tech you wanted to play with. These people, they didn't judge. And well, you looked to you bedside draws discreetly, it might be the safest place for you. "Avenger's Initiative- what was is it again?" You had a fair idea but it was never said out loud.

"It's these guys; they are the Avengers." 

Indeed, you thought with enough cereal in your mouth to have your cheeks chipmunk out, you were starving- you'd held off for too long. You had never had an audience watch you eat until now, they sometimes stifled laughter at you which even you knew was rude, because it felt bad. Bruce Banner was the best to have meals with he brought his food with him and you both ate so it wasn't awkward, though, he was just as quiet as you were and so not a whole heap was said.

"Well I must leave, we're having a meeting." He gave a little chuckle.

"About what?" You ask hurriedly still with cereal in your mouth.

"You." He chuckled some more as the door closed behind him.

 

Meanwhile, the untrusting man that he was, Nick Fury showed up to Stark's tower in person to discuss what on earth to do with you. People who seemed to be after you couldn't know you were here, though the news had made it pretty damn clear, rather than hackable transmissions he always wanted to do things concerning the Avengers in person, all were gathered in Tony's meeting room which was also his and Banner's lab. Various holoscreens  surrounding were supporting parts of your file. 

"So we are all here to discuss what we should do with Ms.________, it is clear someone is after her but she hasn't exactly been forthcoming as to who or why." Fury was a man of dark skin and of an eye patch and facial scarring. He was without hair except for some exceptional facial hair that would do Tony Stark proud and had a unique and commanding voice. "We have few choices, keep her here in the safety of the tower until the threat is neutralised," essentially keep you here with the Avengers as a warden for your cell until they decide you're safe -and no threat to the world, but Fury left that unspoken. Instead went on,"-or train her into neutralising her own threat, make her one of you guys. I personally am for the first. I do not trust that she wouldn't just try to neutralise us in return." The guy liked the word neutralise, how it rolled off the tongue. There was no telling what would happen if whoever was after you- got you, imagine, something like you brainwashed for the wrong team.

"On what grounds?" Steve spoke from the back of the room, he had only intended listen then accept you into the initiative, but it didn't seem to be going that way.

"On many grounds Rogers, have you even read her file?" Fury found Steve's ways outdated- he was far too quick to trust.

"No sir," he blushed a little, "I prefer to judge a character first hand rather than words on paper." 

"First of all," -Figures Steve would get all ‘moral’ on him, Fury put on a lecturing tone, "We have no idea where she came from or what she is. There was no serum, no gamma radiation, no Asgardian sized crater, she just appeared and look at this." He swiped at a screen for a moment coming to a picture. "This is the first photo we have on record for her." There you were looking just as you did now. Perhaps your hair had changed but you hadn't aged a day, you had one of those faces that could be fifteen or twenty, there was no way of telling your age at all.

You looked so familiar- even Cap had to admit you had not aged; and he was most knowledge on this subject.

"This was taken seven years ago at an orphanage which she suddenly showed up to. It says here." More swiping, then enlarging. "She couldn't even speak English, she didn't even know her own name, apparently then taking it upon herself to come up with a name on her own. 

And because Mr. Rogers failed to read the brief. We have to revisit how she even came to be on Shield's radar." More flicking through electronic papers ensued which was becoming exhausting. "and my final reason why I wouldn't train her to become an Avenger; in her supposed ninth year of school which was actually just her third, she killed another student." There was an old school photo of a boy who looked about sixteen with red hair and a slightly plump exterior. The news arrived with a deadly silence.

Steve was stunned. Had the other's known this? It seemed Stark hadn't read anything that wasn't of use to him including how they found you, he wore the same kind of look. The vested man and Romanoff didn't even flinch, Banner look mournful having already known.

"So I say we just keep her here. We see what we can get out of her and we neutralise her threat and set her off on her own merry way. It's clear she doesn't want anything to do with people anyway."

"Why do you keep me around then? It was just one person, do we even have a record of my past?" Bruce seemed to be gripping the table with some sort of force, calming himself, he had taken this on a more personal level. You had said a lot in the silent dinners he had with you- you and him were more alike than Fury gave you credit. If you hadn't the right to be a part of the team what did he?

"It wasn't you but the Hulk, this;" Fury pointed to the boy once more, "Was all her."

You were a good person from what the Captain had seen, were you even capable? He remembered how your eyes had suddenly hardened in the diner; like you were someone else- the chilling smile. But you didn't go through with it, he believed in you, it must have been an accident- yeah, an accident. "If people judged me for what they saw on paper I wouldn't be here with you today." He said quietly.

"But what if she suddenly turns? When she gets angry, well, you saw for yourself Cap," Natasha reasoned. She often cuts off her emotions when taking a stand for the team, she liked you as a person, but didn't think you were good for the team. She, herself had been an assassin, she killed for a living, not suddenly and without reason. She was a killer and you were a murderer, in most people's eyes they were the same thing, but not hers.

"And if I get angry?" Banner interjected.

Natasha filched back, she didn't want to upset Banner- for more than one reason.

Tony had stood with a hand on his chin with an unreadable expression for most of the time. You were a smart girl in his eyes, only three years in school and you could recreate his archreactor? There must be something more to it, and if he was going to figure it out he would have to have you around for a while longer than 'when the threat is neutralized'. And if they were to train you, well, you would be unstoppable, he could retire, leave it to the rest of them. 

"I'm with Grampa Rogers and the Jolly Green Giant, I like her, she is smart, perhaps even smarter under my guidance." He added cockily. Before switching through a couple of things on the main monitor. Coming to a video. There you were, you bent down to the black cat in the middle of the road, you saw the car coming and you turned your back to take the hit for the little cat, it was obvious from the way you cradled it that you wanted no harm to come to the little thing even if it pained you. The video had been from a security camera. 

The man in the vest visibly jumped as the car made contact. The cat walked away leaving you there, falling forward. 

"If she was willing to save a cat, I would bet that she would want to save most anyone." Why would you ever want to save such a mangy thing?

"But that was her cat, in her file it said it was her only companion." Fury explained irritably. "Later that evening she would break the leg of an agent with a mere kick!"

-The room became a complete uproar.

Coulson was quietly rooting for you, he may or may not have gone around Fury to offer you the job in the first place... This could have been all his doing... But there was this archer who had spoken about you, how you never really fit in, you were strong and he believed in the type of person you are.

The man that smelt like your cat stood quietly in the corner of the room, he was too close on this one, his opinion was invalid.

There was sudden a  _ clunking _ sound coming from the hallway. A  _ thunk _ then a rattling of chains like the forthcoming of Marley's ghost. It was coming closer to the meeting room. The multiple conversations were put on hold to pay attention to the door. It stopped just outside the room with a loud  _ bang.  _ Was that the end of a spoon? Was it slightly stained with count chocula? It was poked through the crack in the automatic door and shifted until it found the unlocking mechanism before the door was forced open.

"Don't I get a say?" You ask, you had an exhilarating rush all the way up to your ears. You felt like you were breaking the rules, this was the most reckless thing you've probably ever done. You never knowingly seek out attention like this. Picking up your little 'lead' box once more, hoisting it onto your shoulder. Damn that Tony Stark. You had sat in your room for a while before decided you had to convince them to let you stay, for the safety of your duffel bag and because of the thing that had destroyed your room; you'd like to see them get to you all the way up here. And it definitely had nothing to do with the growing affection you denied having for this band of heroes. They had offered in the first place, it would be rude of them to kick you out. 

You notice just about everyone in the large, futuristic room was on edge from your appearance. You saw the picture of the sixteen year old boy on the biggest screen and visibly blanched, you teetered off the tall tightrope of that was your current confidence level all too suddenly. You looked to Cap, but he looked away from your gaze.  _ Monster.  _ They wouldn't have you would they? You suddenly found your voice waning, so many people in one place, sure you knew them all, well not that guy- you still felt a little out of your depth. 

"I'm sorry sir, I tried to stop her-" the AI tried to apologise.

"It's fine Jarvis, I should have made that weight bigger." Though he didn't really mean it- his eyes were sparkling with intrigue. That was still twice the recorded amount a human has been known to lift and you had managed to get this far in such a short time? He wanted to play with you more yet.

You dropped the black box on the ground with another great cashing sound, tired of its weight, given that you were a killer you doubted there was many but you still had to know- "my options-?" You voice had lost confidence it was more of a mumble.

"You don't have options-" Said a man with one wide eye staring at you. 

You assumed this to be Fury well, because of his, fury? He smelt overpoweringly of a cologne, it was like he was trying to do the complete opposite of what the vested man did, he was masking his scent with a cologne. You would bet that scent would change often. Genius, untrusting man. Figures, they'd already decided for you. So what, a cell? You looked to your bare feet on the cold floor. You didn't really fit in here did you?

But Stark had already decided for himself. "Do you like pink?" He interrupted everyone's thought process very abruptly. You had been strong enough to hoist that little metal box from your room to here. You navigated with sound and smell, you were smart enough to break down his doors with a mere dessert spoon.

You scrunched your nose up, even you couldn't decipher that. What's this about pink?

"Well I am obviously, you know, the red ranger, Romanoff has black because it works, well green-," he smiled at the gamma scientist, "blue," he gestures to the only man in the room not getting the reference. "Purple, well we all know purple isn't a thing but too bad Barton." 

You looked over to the man who smelt like Sebastian, so that was Barton? You would remember these things.

"Thor isn't here so I am willing to discuss maybe giving you yellow if, you know, you didn't like pink all that much." He tried discreetly. Tony had decided you would be the next Power Ranger, he ignored your past. He knew what it was to have a second chance. And he hadn't had a good puzzle in ages.

A small smile came across your features, they wanted you? This was obviously pissing off Fury who had been so against you from what you could hear from the hallway, so you played along. "Wouldn't want to impose on Thor's place- Pink it is." You smiled distinctly using your middle finger to adjust your glasses in Fury's general direction. Your voice was small but mocking, two things that very much contradict themselves.

"God, it's like a second Tony," groaned the eyepatched man, who started wondering why he bothered to show up in the first place; they would do whatever they like anyway.

Stark offered you a hand and you shook it, "Welcome to the Avengers ________,"

"No, I won't allow it," Fury stated coldly.

"Oh, come on! She will be a valuable asset to the team." Barton finally broke his silence despite himself.

The man in the eyepatch narrowed his one eye at the vested man before giving a sigh. "You're on probation. If you so much as put a toe out of line you will be kicked from the group," He pointed a finger in your general direction. "If I find a reason to adopt you into the initiative for real, I'll see to it personally," was this him scoffing?

This man had absolutely no faith in you.

"Again. Welcome to the Avenger's; Probee." Stark reaffirmed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18 Kudos of love~~ thank you all :3  
> I hope you're enjoying where things are going  
> I want to be a power ranger c,:  
> <3


	4. Cat people

You still had this chain stuck to your wrist, the weight was bothersome so you made a point to drop it every now and again;  _ loudly. _

"Why do I still have this on?" You almost let yourself whine. It wouldn't stop you from hurting people, in fact it could aid you. Perhaps there will come a time when you would want to piff this weight at Stark’s well-groomed face. 

As they had already let you stay you didn't see the point in being chained up like a prisoner. You didn't think you were a prisoner… were you? The cuff was beginning to chafe. It could actually be the worst. It rattled around as you ate that night's Chinese stir fry, which was delicious, Stark's chef gets it right every time, even if you weren't really one for eating a lot of food.

"Think of it as training," the iron man shrugged, his favourite black sabbath shirt adorned and reclining lazily in the supervisors chair as he liked to do, as if he had to remind you that he did in fact own the place. 

Training? Has he ever tried to get a shirt sleeve over that box-thing? Supposed you shouldn't be complaining, he was the reason why you were allowed to stay in this safe place. Why was he there anyway? You were free to roam, given that you could carry the weight around, still, he brought you your dinner to save you from the God aweful trip. Kindness or mockery; you couldn't tell.

"Why do you watch this crap any way? You should be watching something more educational, like cartoons." He sighed at your bland taste in television. 

Even you admit, the news so far was on the boring side. "-Just like to know what's happening," you shrugged.

He laughed too loud to be sincere at that. "Princess, we know things before the media knows things, in fact we know things the news could never tell you-" Stark seemed to be on a roll but as if to prove him wrong the news told him something he didn't already know.

"We have breaking footage of Stark weapons being fired by terrorists in the Middle East. More from Bob live from Syria."

"Thank you Susan." It cut away from the usual skeletal woman who presented on the news desk to show a balding man, flushed deep red from the country's heat even in the darkness of night. "It seems Tony Stark has once again been carelessly making weapons and some how terrorists have indeed gotten a hold of them." He stood by a large missile shell that did have that iconic name printed on the side as a torch was shone upon it.

You noticed Tony glaring at the screen.

Next played a clip of said weapons being used by the opposition the camera very far away from the action, like fireworks lighting the night's sky.

"That can't be right, it's not-" how could this happen? 

It was weird to see him so unsure of himself. 

"I stopped all that, I haven't had weapons made in years." He tried to explain it as if those at the news desk could hear it, his dark eyes coming to glaze over in the direction on the tv. Those weapons were Stark's greatest regret. He stood from his chair and began to pace.

You knew pacing, you liked pacing. You didn't like that look on Stark's face, again, in your selfish little world you hated to see the Tony Stark this perplexed.  It was so ‘not-Tony’,"-We all know it wasn't you- there must be a storage facility..."

"Yes- yes there was but last year I had someone go through and dispose of them properly-" Tony began to scowl. He must have realised something.

You simply looked at him dumbly from your bed with your fork hanging from your mouth, were you supposed to console? Or blame? Or help? How can you help? People were hard. Before you could attempt any of those things Stark interrupted your thoughts.

"I need to get to the bottom of this, I'll see you later Princess." He ran off through the door that was now permanently open from your tampering with it.

You wouldn't have said it out loud but you believed Tony just looked panicked. Should you be too? Someone out there had gotten a hold of all Tony's old weapons. 

In your moments alone your eyes flickered to your bedside table. When was the last time you looked? -the door was open; but everyone would be out or eating right now. You didn't even look after taking the clothes from the bag and setting it in there. Too afraid to. 

Had they been damaged from that brawl with Cap? With all these people milling around, how did you know they were even still there? You looked around again. It seemed no one was in the near vicinity. 

You listened out for a hint of anything. You shifted towards your draws, placing the tray towards the end of the bed. With your black duffel bag in your hands you looked at you two most prized possessions. You picked the ball up and out of the bag, holding it up to the light, looking for any sign of damage, the crystal was as clears as ever. Then the tablet, of course you couldn't really tell what has been there and what was fresh, the thing always looked a little banged up, but it was still in one piece. You placed them back lovingly.  _ Safe and sound, safe and sound. _ Yes this was the best place for you, safer than any flat on the edge of town.

 

* * *

 

"-don't want to hurt you," you gave Romanoff big doe eyes, why did you have to train any way? Couldn't you just do what Stark does and contribute to the Avengers with smart-assery? But to stay here permanently, apparently you had to fight; saving people, hunting things - should you have signed up for this? But where else would you go?

"Then how else are you going to learn?" She said exasperatedly. The redhead was wearing a pair of skintight black leggings and a training bra to match. You had just finished warming up so there was a sexy sheen on her skin where you looked rather bedraggled. 

You think she might even be wearing makeup- or did she just look like that? It was staying put by some sort of magic either way.

Romanoff hadn't exactly trained someone before, and she had been opposed to you staying, but for the sake of the team she was putting her best foot forward and award winning smile on.

You had to do reps with your own restraints, were you the only one finding that weird and cruel? You looked down at yourself in an oversized, white shirt and jeans, it was one of the few things that would fit over the damn box. Still she was not threatening your femininity- at all. 

The chains were all up about five meters long, so you had enough mobility to run in a circle, and do a little practise fighting. The training facilities were large and with giant, blue, support mats on the floor, voices echoed in this place and it reminded you of a school's gymnasium, what would Stark have use for a room like this? Or was it the fact that his tower was just so big that he could? Overcompensation much?

The man without a first name was milling around the edges of the room. They had both decided training you was the next best course of action on Fury's plan to have you 'neutralise' your own threat and prove yourself into becoming the next Avenger. -Fury, himself, went back to Shield, having nothing more to say and being slightly salty that Stark would undermine him as he did.

"I doubt you could hurt me if you tried," she smiled tauntingly. 

She didn't know what she was talking about. You sighed, how else would you learn? They wouldn't simply keep you around and keep you protected if you didn't work for them. 

There was the Super Soldier, you think you could punch him and he would be okay, but you got this distinct feeling that Steve had been avoiding you lately. Had he the wrong idea about something? It couldn't be your file, he had already looked over it, hadn't he? He didn't even come to your room to celebrate almost becoming one of them, when so far, everyone else had. 

Tony in his suit wouldn't be hurt but you'd not seen him since he stormed from your room. You really don't want to piss off Banner, leaving you with the two very human Avengers. You sighed, again, raising your arms into some sort of failed fighting stance. 

Barton hurried over and fixed up your pathetic stance, making your feet shoulder's width apart and moving your arms so they didn't appear to be so limp.

Gah, you felt like you were being treated like a child.

"Okay, punch me," Romanoff prompted.

Just like that huh? Just give her a big ol' punch. That's what you told yourself, but you were too scared to put too much pressure behind it, it must have felt like being strangely caressed with a limp noodle. You did the same weird thing twice in succession.

"What are you doing?" She looked at you strangely. She had been told of the episode in the cafe from the Captain’s perspective, not that he would tell you- but for a moment he was actually scared. She found herself asking- scared of what?

"-Punching, look at me go." You gave her another and she didn't even move.

And she had been afraid that you would be harmful to the team? You couldn't even hurt a fly, really, at this point you would only hold them back. Further still, why were you here?

Barton silently agreed this was a little sad to watch.

"Perhaps something different," her caught your next fist without even trying. "You're going to have to fend me off, if you can." Perhaps the real threat of danger might bring out some of your strength, in a real battle you wouldn't be able to think of such things as how much strength to use, in the heat of the moment things move too quickly to think at all, it become reactionary.

You gave a nod, then thought on it. "Wait-" she was getting in stance to start whaling on you. 

"What now?" She sighed, her muscles were already cooling off from the warm up.

"Safety word is um- ‘pickles’." For her sake, not yours- a safety word might be needed. It was the first thing to come to mind because even you admit you were feeling kind of peckish, you'd been doing your usual avoiding of food since no one was really watching you anymore.

This brought a smile to her normally stoic face; you had caught her off guard. "Okay then, pickles." She figured you were going to need it. "Get ready, here I come."

You had barely enough time to raise your arms into some sort of position before you felt a swift kick connect with your ribs. Oh- wow, she wasn't holding back, there was a snapping sound as you became down one rib. You resisted the urge to hold your stomach as it healed, the pain was still excruciating but you saw another hard shin coming toward the other side intent on doing the same thing again. You halted with your forearm, oh -that was going to bruise her. 

She was undeterred. Natasha had stoked a fire in her eyes. It looked like she actually wanted to kill you. However, those ribs should not have broken, you were too strong for that, an average human was too strong for that- it was strange. Suppose they still didn't know a whole heap about your abilities. Still- you weren't giving her what she wanted. Fight back damn it.

You knocked away a couple of punches from your chest and stomach region, your ribs were still healing and you'd rather them not had to deal with more pain. You were focussing too hard in that area you didn't even expect it when her fist came for your face. You felt the impacted ricocheting around in your head, you saw twinkling lights. Your nose gave into the pressure, the bone in the bridged snapping spearing the cartilage on top. Your balance teetered backwards and you fell. You held your nose from the pain and rushing blood, it dribbled down into your mouth leaving a coppery taste.

"Natasha!" Barton yelled, "wasn't that a bit much-"

You held up an unused hand to silence the agent, he didn't know you well enough to warrant such care, he didn't need to protect you. Through the pain you straightened your nose out with a filthy cracking. You wiped your bloodied hand on the large shirt's front, "I’m fine, no pickles." You scowled, your voice coming out like you had the flu as your nose was blocked. You hitched up your glasses before standing up slowly and bringing your fists back up in front of you. 

Romanoff hadn't meant to hit you in the nose so hard, you had been blocking so well up until then you assumed you would do it again. It was almost as if your bones were brittle, or made of wood, they shouldn't be cracking like this, she didn't think she had been using such a force. You couldn't be this meek out there. You couldn't be this meek in existence, people will step all over you. She looked at you and saw the innocence she never got to keep. And honestly- it annoyed her. You had to step up. You weren't going to give up? Not after that? She appreciated that at least, there is some drive there- she could mould that. She shouldn't insult your small ego so she got ready to attack once more.

 

"When you fall, try to make it into a roll, you'll protect vital organs and your spinal cord. The momentum won't plow you into the ground, rather propel you in the direction you roll." Barton had just flung you as you attempted a pitiful punch, using what little strength you were willing to use against him against yourself. Natasha now paced around the sides after getting tired of beating you up, throwing bits of information at you every now and again. Her blood was at a simmer by now. You were literally letting them beat you into a pulp, completely refusing to fight back. She let none of this show of course.

You picked yourself up again once more, favouring one leg and one eye, you could scarcely used your right hand from the chains anyway.

Barton was finding this useless, no matter how much they beat you up you refused to hurt them as hard, back. All of it was just making him feel guilty, like beating up a little lamb. Another round of Loki and the Chitauri and you would look something like a tree’s remains after going a round with a wood chipper. He regretted saying anything to Coulsen, he regretted not putting his hand up to say you shouldn't be a part of the Avengers. You simply weren't made for this.

"-Don't look at me like that." He was looking down on you, you had felt that gaze far too many times before, it was somehow familiar in more ways than one. Reminded you of something that angered you- something that went unremembered. You fended off another hit to your torso. -You little precious thing you, didn't he realise you were a killer? A monster? They shouldn't take you lightly. 

You defended your face. You weren't some little kid. Stepped back from a lunge. You felt a sneer come over you- you wanted to hurt him, wanted to wipe the look from his face. You took the distance back, parrying forward. You fisted fast towards his stomach, your emotions getting the better of you. "I don't need your pity."

He moved quickly to counter but it actually connected.

As soon as it hit you regretted it. Oh, that was going to hurt, you had slowed down at the last second. Still, you had successfully winded Agent Barton with one punch.

Romanoff sucked in her breath. You got him good. She almost broke for a moment to laugh, Barton had gone down like a sack of shit to the weakest half Avenger to ever exist. -but that said something about you, you were passionate, passionate enough to have a lingering temper. It made you refreshingly easy to read and if she provoked you- maybe your training would get somewhere? All along you just needed a reason to fight for.

"That was-" the blond wheezed, rather doubled over. "That was good." He took it all back. If you put all that force into a punch and aimed it at Steve- he wouldn't know who would win.

"I'm so sorry!" Your eyes bulged. 

He waved it off between struggled breathing. You were sorry? He thought he shattered your jaw before. He had seen better off people in a torture chair.

"I think we should end it for today," Natasha was more looking at you than Barton, it wasn't a good idea for you to wear white while training. That was a lot of blood. She passed a bottle of water to the both of you. She wasn't all that worried, she had heard you have regenerative powers like Cap and she had beaten him up many times before, but then again, he never bled or cracked in here before.

With the prospect of the end, you folded to the floor before laying on your back, Barton did the same, faintly wheezing.

"This power- is it wasted on me?" You wondered out loud forgetting the other two in the room. Your vision in your left eye was coming back, you could only imagine what it looked like to them. You think you might have broken your tibia in your right leg from a tripping maneuver Natasha had 'shown' you. This strength given to someone who wants to do nothing but run away? It seemed to be the work of the God of irony.

"No, if it had been given to just about anyone else it could have been a threat to us all." Barton said, having recovered from his shortness of breath. Perhaps given to someone like him? Might have been a little more useful? But you had heroism in you, even if clearly; to him, Natasha wasn't seeing it.

You squinted, was that an offhanded compliment? "Who are you Barton?" You didn't know the game he was playing but it annoyed the shit out of you. 

You didn't even see Romanoff sneak from the room, she knew this story, she began to be tired of him tell her things about you. He was too attached and emotions weren't her scene.

He sighed after a while, you were technically an Avenger or a probational one at least. You should probably know, you would be with them almost permanently it seemed. "I have been doing this for a while," he said almost unrelatedly. "I was scouted by the agency after a mix up at a heist," he grimace. The police had labelled him a criminal when he had taken the money from the real criminal. They didn't ask questions when they saw him with the goods. Naturally Shield knew, they always did. "Five years ago I was given my first mission," he was sloppy then, got too attached. "To watched over a girl who had been found to have 'superpowers', someone without a past. They deemed it an easy mission and so gave it to me."

You perked up at this. Barton couldn't mean you? It was him following you all that time?

"I followed her from an orphanage, I followed her from alleyways to hotels. Moving across entire states on foot. She was my mission and I began to feel kind of protective of her, you don't just watch over someone for that long without feeling that kind of thing. -I over stepped my mission. I’d leave food for the girl, fended men away from her when she slept on the street,” They had wanted to take him from the mission after sending an arrow straight through a rather perverted type of man, but he stayed on, there was no one better than himself for the job.

You were becoming conflicted. Those eyes were the ones who haunted you for so long, they were his. But he wasn't just documenting you for Shield, he had been looking out for you?

There was a pause before he started again, you probably wouldn't answer, you didn't often speak. "You always looked so alone." He was staring up at the ceiling, he'd dropped the pretence of the 'the girl' because you both knew who he spoke of. "So when I caught wind that you were looking for a more permanent residence I bought a kitten-"

That smell, he was Sebastian's other owner.

"I put him in the apartment just before you arrived...There were so many times I almost ran over to that flat," he had bought up residence across the way in another apartment building above the bakery. "You screamed in the night and I thought you were dying but each time I just saw you get up and go to the fridge after going to the bathroom." He was quiet, still thinking, "That cat was always perched on your shoulder-" he spoke over his words as if he had only then remembered. "There was an explosion once and I was definitely going to go over there but I heard this laughter, you were lying there in your living room laughing, your hair was singed then you went at it with a pair of scissors. You're lucky your hair grows so fast because you are no hairdresser." He chuckled next to you. "-it was also my job to go through your mail, I read your first manuscripts."

Oh no he did not! Then again- you were right to hide your dirty washing in pizza boxes and grocery bags. Something tells you the agent would refuse you playing with such substances as certain chlorides. 

"I sent it to Coulson, he likes that kind of thing- and he sent it to a friend of his who became your publisher-" 

You were still silent, he couldn't bring himself to look at you. 

"I-I never thought I would actually meet you, after the first month of you living in that flat I was called to another mission, I checked up on you every now and again. You were my first after all and I wanted to make sure you were okay. -listen I know it's kind of strange that's why I didn't really want to tell you."

You were still silent and there was a long pause before you said anything at all, "Barton, what's your first name?"

"It's uh- Clint." He didn't know how it mattered.

"Clint," you could feel tears rising, you didn't cry, you never cried. "Thank you." You bit your lip. He was there all that time? Barton had cared for you for so long. More than anyone had. You raised a hand to your eyes, you weren't getting attached, you ground your teeth in defiance against the natural reaction to cry. 

Clint could hear the grinding of teeth, what were you doing over there? He could never really understand much of what you do, it's how he found you so intriguing to watch. It was almost soothing- those nights where you were just a street away, he knew you were safe. It was a feeling he never knew again until his first little ones came along- was that strange?

"Is Sebastian okay?" You asked after a while after you won the battle of the tears.

"The night you were hit by the car I was on another mission, I found out what happened and went looking for Snowy a couple of days later. He is now at home with my family and well taken care of." He smiled, he wanted to tell you of his family because he didn't find it fair that he knew everything about you. Clint had thought you would want to kill him for being that person that gave you so much anxiety. Perhaps it wasn't Shield you were so afraid of. Never in all his time watching over you had he seen something other than himself looking at you. He didn't know what was after you but by god it was his job to see that they never got you.

"Snowy?" You questioned, brows furrowed.

"Yeah, I thought it was ironic, why did you think Sebastian was a good idea?" Barton chuckled almost embarrassed by his naming skills. Good thing his wife named the children.

"-The perfect little black butler, I thought Sebastian was fitting." You explained with a smile. Of course he didn't get it. "Will I ever get to see him again?" You asked.

"Sure, but you have to promise not to steal him away, my son is very taken with him."

You smirked, you were sure you'd be able to smuggle him away somehow, that's if he still wanted you.

"Since I have told you about my family could you not tell everyone else? It's only Nat that knows," he asked anxiously, his precious family, even Shield didn't know about.

He was confiding in you? It felt like you just met, but it seems you've actually kind of known eachother for years. Which definitely didn't make you attached, but was comforting. "I'll take your secret to the grave Clint." You promised. It was the least you could do for all he has done for you.

 

* * *

  
  


You were a mess, your white shirt had crimson stains, the same was found on your face from your nose and eye. Your healing had you up and moving soon after meeting with Barton. You had somehow formed a stronger bond with him in a matter of one conversation than you had with anyone, ever. 

Didn't mean you trusted him, everyone has the capability to hurt you, you wouldn't let another person- or creature, have the chance. You didn't think you'd ever meet someone to have looked after you so well. Even if he just -you know, beat the shit out of you with his partner. 

You decided in earnest, next training lesson you would try, really try, they gave their all in all they did, you should do the same. It would be an insult not to. 

Barton had wanted to walk you to your room but you refused him- made something up along the lines of 'it doesn't hurt-' giving him some sort of delusion that you felt no pain. But hell- you really, really did. 

You had wanted to feel independent all over again after just learning you had never really been alone all along- However Avenger’s tower, you could swear was a maze, it was made up mostly of corridors. They were everywhere. Should you have taken up Barton on the walk home? You felt yourself getting lost and it was like this 'lead' box was getting heavier.

In one of the many hallways you came across the back of a blond head and a pair of impossibly wide shoulders. "Hey Steve, hold up!" You only wanted a direction, a simple point maybe- You spoke to the back of his head but got no reaction, he didn't even bother turning around, he just kept walking. 

He really was avoiding you? You stumbled after him as your broken leg bone was still on the mend and on top of that you had to carry this horrid thing around as it was chained to you. You must have appeared to look like one of the zombies from thriller, not that he would know what that was. 

"Yah! wait up!" You called, you didn't think you could move much faster than this. Still nothing. Right, it was just pain, and pain was a part of the nervous system, it's all in your brain. You've got this. And you trucked on faster than before, gaining on the super soldier. You found yourself by his side and in much more pain in no time. "Yah!" You shouted beside him -that may have been the loudest you've made your voice and he finally looked down.

He gave a sudden gasp. Your guess on looking like a thriller zombie was rather spot on, you were pale in comparison to your usual self and gaunt, a dark outline encircled your eyes, one vaguely darker than the other and blood spattered your shirt, your eyes were bloodshot from holding back feelings, the black chains coiled around you to stop you from falling over them. Your glasses sat askew on your nose but you hadn't the hands to readjust them. "______, are you okay?" He seemed to forget ignoring you for a second with wide eyes.

"This is nothing," you actually never felt better, never felt so not-alone. You readjusted your grip on the lead. You already had a blackening spot on your bare foot where you'd dropped it once before followed by an ass tonne of foul-mouthery that would have the man before you blush like a tomato, you didn't feel like doing that a second time. "Just training, now I'm lost- help?" Again, from you, it sounded like a demand.

"Of course," the blond didn't look convinced that what you were right now was okay. "Do you want me to carry that for you?" He referred to Tony's hell-box.

Yes you would want him to carry the stupid thing, but one day you wanted to be strong enough to be able to throw this at stupid Iron Man's stupid, dumb, fat head. So there was no cutting corners. "No- Stark said this is training." You sighed.

"You're all bruised up, I can't allow you to carry that." He said in his Captain America to helpless citizen voice. 

You puffed up your chest, you didn't need his help, you didn't need anyone's help, what was these people? "I am alright, lead the way," you grinned triumphantly, actually, were you missing a tooth? Barton had clocked you one in the mouth before and you hadn't been able to defend it. That would grow back wouldn't it? Oh, dear.

He wasn't going to win with you, he started the opposite direction to the way he was originally going.

Oh, so it was this way?

Rogers couldn't help but hear a dragging sound coming from behind, what was that? Were you pulling the box along the ground? He reluctantly turned to look once more. It was you leg; you were dragging your leg like that, why? Your foot was on an odd angle. It's broken and you won't let him carry the weight? He stopped suddenly, lifting the lead box from you and turned back around. "You're too slow." Was Steve's excuse. A tonne was lighter to him than it was you but it was still quite a hefty weight.

You were too tired to even complain at this point. This was the most physical work you have ever done, all you wanted was to get in that bath and then sleep for a while. You hobbled along following Cap, you actually weren't all that far away from your abode, seemed someone had fixed your automatic door from your own ministrations, probably why you couldn't recognise it. Bet you walked straight passed it.

Steve placed the weight to the middle of the room and turned to leave. 

You didn't want him to leave without knowing why he no longer liked you. "Cap, why are you ignoring me?" You eased yourself onto the bed, staring directly at him.

He paused in the doorway, slowly turning, "Tell me it was an accident," his eyes were pleading.

You didn't understand and your face showed it.

"That boy's death, it had to have been an accident." He just couldn't understand it, you had said you were one of the little guys. How could you kill someone? It just didn't add up in his mind, he thought you were at an understanding. Had he really judge you that wrongly?

Ah, so he hadn't read your files before that meeting? No wonder he had been so nice to you, messing your hair up and stuff, you thought he was a- no, he wasn't a friend. You didn't have those, you made sure. But had you thought he didn't care about you past. You thought- you were accepted here. See, this is what happens when you let your guard down. You looked down at your crooked foot, bending down to put it back into place with an icky sound like a twig snapping. 

Rogers flinched immeasurably.

That's right Steve; you were a monster. You finally looked at him again. "It wasn't an accident, I knew what I wanted to do. -I killed him." You clenched your jaw. Your hands had remembered what it was to jitter. It had been a while. Nothing had changed. You let your back fall onto the bed, you legs stayed dangling.

Steve couldn't even think to say anything, you really were a murderer, you were the type of person that he hated so much that he became who he was to this day. Romanoff was brainwashed, the Hulk was uncontrollable but you, you killed someone, you killed an innocent. -would you do it again if they trained you?

"Just go," you said in a small voice, you could feel all his judgements, his eyes had turned cold on you. You were an idiot to get too close, they all turn in the end.

"You couldn't have -why?" 

You looked up at him from the bed, so heroic, everything you believed you could never be. You were tired from being beat up, you didn't want this conversation. You never wanted this conversation. You wanted people to hold their assumptions of what happened that day to themselves. They could all leave you to this safe tower. "Just go," you snarled in a sudden animalistic gesture.

The Captain jumped.

You made the great Captain America jump in fear. You knew it, deep down, everyone here was afraid of you. Your hands shook more violently, could they know? On the same deep level you feared yourself, feared what you could do if you just let loose. You could probably kill them all. You heard him leave. You wouldn't cry, never again, of that you convinced yourself.

 

The bath helped with the healing process, and the relaxing of your muscles, though it did nothing to aid your mind. You only wanted to forget. Like you somehow forgot before all those years ago. The ignorance would be blissful, suppose that's why you forced yourself into forgetting then? You never wanted to remember if it was something so bad. 

But wouldn't there be good with the bad? Your parents, you bet they would have been wonderful. Maybe siblings? Imagine having a big brother, no -imagine two, you felt a dull ache in your head. Then again, you looked to your hands, wouldn't they have been like you? What if they really were monsters? 

You felt a surge of anxiety, your stomach dropped. These aren't good things to think about- you knew somehow you weren't supposed to remember. Other’s might want to dig up the past, want to know who they were previously but you found yourself wanting to leave sleeping dogs lie just in case the past was too cruel to remember. 

 

Getting out of the bath you dried your hair, your body was still a little tight. It was nearing time for the news according to a clock along the wall.

"Hey Jarvis?" You tested.

"Yes Miss ______?" The polite English voice returned.

"Could you tell whoever is cooking not to make me any? I'm not too hungry." Really you just didn't want to have to see anyone for a while. You found your limit on human interactions. Words came easily when speaking to a robot- there was no judgements here, only protocols, he might not even tell the difference in how you act towards him and the humans of the tower.

"Are you feeling unwell Miss?" He is just Ai but he sounded concerned, interesting piece of tech.

"No, no, I just want to watch my show and go straight to sleep," you said honestly, because you were in fact exhausted.

"As you wished Miss," he complied.

You barely heard the fact that Iron Man had been spotted in the Middle East before you fell asleep watching the news. Jarvis saw you going out and so turned off the television and dimmed the lights for you, playing a playlist you crafted for sleeping to drown out the noises of the tower.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 29 is a mental amount of people considering this thing has been up for only a week~~ Thank you all  
> The comment section is so nice :3 I love you  
> THank you for reading!!


	5. Lost in a galaxy

If you stayed in your bedroom all alone you would eat yourself alive with swirling guilt and fear, sleeping on it had it feel slightly further away, but Cap's face with all his handsome features skewed into an expression of utter disappointment was still very fresh.

Instead of being eaten, having woken up about midday you committed to walking around; exploring. You managed a stretchy floral dress over the Stark's box that had a cute collar and a mustard yellow knitted cardigan which fell behind the knee, a more circular frame of glasses sat upon your nose. You had found a compartment in your wardrobe that featured many pairs and someone had obviously been shopping for you, all the granny clothes you could poke a stick at lay in there. 

The tonne wasn't as heavy as it previously had been, because your body was now in working order. Your feet slapped noisily against the tower’s cold floors, you trailed around finding a set of stairs. 

You heard a voice around the corner. You thought you remembered this place. It was just above the residential floor, in fact, it overlooked its common room and bar with a void opposite. Yes, it was the place of the Avengers meeting. The door here had also been fixed. 

Who was that Speaking? It was muffled by the door and so was incomprehensible, but you could smell- it was of disinfectant and a sort of musk fragrance, was it his soap? It was a calming shower scrub- lavender maybe? yeah, that was Banner. You could vaguely hear Bruce talking, who was he talking to? It seemed to be himself as there was never any reply but questions were answered. 

What interesting tech did they hide in here? You never got a good enough look to satisfy you- you were free to roam and perhaps, peek at their work? You knocked on the door in a happy tuned that contrasted your actual mood. 

How had you been so happy before with Barton and now this? Being surrounded by actual people was emotionally exhausting to you. -And yet you find yourself looking for another.

"You can come in," you heard Bruce say in an exasperated tone. It was clear he probably didn't want to be bothered. 

Should you come back later? You just kind of stood there procrastinating, you didn't want to leave, that was rude wasn't it? The equivalent of ding-dong ditching -he did invite you in, though reluctantly. 

You rolled your mustard sleeves up with some difficulty while thinking, the weight was getting kind of heavy merely holding it like this. You stood staring at the button for the door's recoil. As if you thought for too long the door slid open all its own.

Banner stood in the doorway, he found himself slightly relieved, he was readying himself for the one that liked to test him by poking. "oh, _______, I wasn't expecting-" he cut himself off, "uh, come in I suppose." He stepped out of the way and went back to what he was doing.

It was a lot messier in here than you remembered. There were screens forming different mechanisms, different gamma signatures formed ongoing sin graphs on multiple monitors and on the center steel table was a mass of different cables and metal pieces, underneath your feet was a glass deck that showed even more monitors and a couple of half made iron man suits, LED lights lit up most of the perimeter. 

-So this was where the science bros did their thing? You had an urge to touch so many things. A window opposite the door you entered overlooked the common room of the residential floor two floors down, and opposite looked over the city.

You dropped of your weight in the corner of the room without thinking and then flinched at the loud sound it created on the metal flooring. Thank god you hadn't decided to drop it on the glass. You look apologetically at Banner before untangling the chains from your body "Uh, what are you doing?" You squinted, was that a pair of doweling rods? 

"Well recently doing one of my routine searches for strange fluctuations in gamma radiation, I came across something odd." He often did searches to keep track of Asgardian artifacts being used, they had a certain God of mischief's staff hidden away by Shield's people- who knows what other things he might find? 

He had set it up so he didn't have to call every lab tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays, Stark had money and with that money he placed spectrometers dotted around the globe on some of the world's tallest buildings, he could calibrate them all from within this lab. He referenced a screen for a moment. "There has been a fluctuation at Stark tower." He was excited in a way, his words were still slow and calm but there was a smile playing on his lips. "Of course we only get a vague, global destination so I am creating-"

"-portable doweling spectrometer-" You looked at the doweling rods once more.

"Exactly, I am going to find whatever is setting off the scanner."

Yes that is what Bruce Banner looks like when he is excited. His dark eyes were glinting at you like and endless vortex. Hmm, you could quite easily get lost in those. 

He frowned slightly, "and you're here because? Oh, did I not fix your door properly?" Tony was the mechanic, he was more the theory. You'd wreak complete havoc on the tower’s doors with your cereal spoon. 

"No, no- just exploring." You left out that part where you were looking a distraction because you were very emotionally distraught. -In fact you didn't even know that yourself.

"Well if you're here, do you mind me running a few tests." He looked at you with sparkling eyes of interest.

You froze up a bit. You knew this time would come- the dissection. Would they keep you alive and splay you like a frog in a science class? 

He waved a hand, "it's nothing uncomfortable, I have results for all the Avengers and since you're just about one- simple things like bone and muscle density, strength, weight, height. -For the database, to see what missions would be suited to who."

You still looked apprehensive. But you hadn't noted any cross section scars on any of the Avengers- that you had seen.

"Tony does it about once a week testing the strength of a new suit design, imagine the look on his face if you were stronger than his suit." 

Now that sounded a little enticing, you didn't care how strong you were, but it would annoy Stark. You could happily push him from that high horse. You hadn't spoken much to Banner as your diners together were rather silent. But he was in his element in this laboratory. He somehow understood you on a fundamental level without needing to say anything, or did Stark generally have that effect on everybody he meets?

 

"You just have to stand in this, it give us a general body scan with different percentages." Banner explained. It might even give him some sort of guide to how strong you might be and how you got this way, he was still a scientist at heart and lord did he find your existence interesting.

You still weren't the keenest on this whole operation, but you were curious about yourself. At least there were no scalpels in sight, only a white and chrome, cylindrical coffin, standing upright in its own room. It was almost as if he wanted to seal you into a fridge. 

Bruce gave you a convincing smile. "It's okay, I even did it to myself, it isn't anything dangerous." Although he couldn't quite bring himself to test the other guy with these things- that would mean letting him out and he wasn't one for that. Not to mention- he would need a bigger scanner.

You sighed, you were weak towards those eyes. You slowly got into the glorified refrigerator. The door closed behind you with a space-aged, exhaling sound and Banner's voice came over a sort of P.A inside.

"Are you doing okay in there?"

You nodded before you realised he couldn't see you, "I'm good." You said quietly, where was the mic in this thing? Though you had to admit that you were feeling more than cramped in the tube, you closed your eyes against the claustrophobic sight. Strange- someone who locks theirself away in a small, cluttered apartment for years is scared of small enclosed spaces? Sometimes it feels like your mind is only making excuses to be scared.

"Is there a certain type of music you listen to?" He asked.

You didn't quite know how that was relevant at all, was he trying to bond with you on some kind of level here? It didn't really feel like the time or place. Nevertheless you voiced the name of your favourite band. Trying to stand still in the scanner from the jitters.

Banner knew you sometimes had Jarvis play you music while you slept, perhaps it would be relaxing. "Interesting-" he said, looking up the band from the database and playing it through to you.

"What's interesting?" You asked.

"Nothing I just didn't think you would like that kind of thing." He arched a brow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Was he insulting your taste?

"No- never mind, I am going to start the scan now, it won't take long, perhaps till the end of two songs." He summed up about five minutes. "Stand as still as you can for me."

The way he had said 'for me' brought on some sort of fantasy where you played doctors. There was something seriously wrong with you. Did you have a schoolgirl crush on Dr. Banner? 

From the sides of the capsule there was a sort of long, plastic stick, something you had seen on a car wash, instead of spraying water it let loose multiple green rays, some came from the top as well and they crossed over. They began to rotate and you tried to hold as still as possible  _ for him.  _ It looked like what you imagined a rave party to be. 

Neither had you been to a rave or a car wash but you had seen the world from a large window- of Internet, in books and through movies. Would this be the closest you get to either of these things? Part way into the third song you were let out. That was certainly a weird experience.

"There are just a couple more things and then we'll go over the data." He said happily.

Yes, Banner really was a scientist, he had that same sort of glint Tony got when he looked over your laptop. You were a new toy to him. But you kind felt it was okay, because it was him.

 

You were then weighed, measured and made to punch a punching bag as hard as you possibly could. You may have even punched harder than that because Banner kept on making small observations and exclamations of praise. 

-You didn't understand why holding your breath was relevant to anything. You were then on a treadmill, you weren't the fastest creature in the world but you killed the endurance test and lastly with a slight fight with those deep eyes your blood was taken.

 

You straightened your flowery dress even if it wasn't all that necessary before sitting in the bench in the center of the room. "-Find anything interesting?" You smiled. It was pretty clear that he had, he was excitedly switching screens and typing a few things. Well, excitedly as Bruce Banner allowed himself.

"Yes, firstly, probably from spending all your time inside for years and a general lack of exercise your muscle density is almost nonexistent."

Well, he could have said it more nicely.

"But that's the thing, if you had the muscle density of Steve your strength could very well rival even-" he cut himself off, as if you weren't to know, "your blood, I can't pinpoint it's type," it was foreign but he had something on record that looked eerily similar. Banner was forming a theory in his mind, he had to look over a couple of things, even then, was it his place to say anything? "What did you eat when you were living on your own?" He suddenly became sterner than you'd seen him.

"I-er didn't eat often…. I liked instant noodles." You offered before looking away from the intensity of his eyes.

"Your body, it's malnourished-" he thought on this for a bit, he found himself watching the jitter in your hands. "-you did this to yourself didn't you?"

Oh damn, the doc hit the nail on the head. Suppose to guess he wouldn't would figure it out would be underestimating him greatly?

He neared the table, he was very close to you, almost bumping into your legs as they hung off the bench. There was an intoxicating smell of calming lavender. "You did this to yourself- to somehow lessen your strength, you fear it, you're like-" Banner didn't get to end his sentence. 

He was interrupted by the opening of the automatic door. Any moment that was going to be had between the two of you was gone like; that, and he stepped back. 

The intruder was Iron Man, literally, Stark wore the suit and all. He stood in a sort of pose in the afterglow of battle, one hand on his hip while the other was strangely behind his back. The afterglow of battle looked very much like the afterglow of sex, with his helmet off, his hair was untamed and pointing even direction, there was a fine sweat and a buildup of dirt on his visible skin. The suit was a little dinged up, scrapes, dents. Was it really necessary to still wear the suit or was it to show off how badass it looked?

You squinted at him, was this a thing he did? Would he be wearing it for the next hour telling everyone about all the cool shit he just got up to? You could forgo that.. You probably didn't need to be here right now, you slipped off the bench intending to let them have their science bros thing.

"No, Princess, stay," it really was as if he were commanding a dog.

Unfortunately for you, you did adhere to his words. He didn't even say hello, only started with orders, the guy really got on your nerves, worse that you simply did what he said no questions asked.

"Brucey, we no longer need that mini spectrometer. I think I found it." Stark was gloating, it was dripping from him. "When you asked for your bag on the first day you had said you wanted your laptop, and yet when I took it later you were unphased," he had turned his attention to you.

What did this have to do with you? You didn't like in anyway how he had mentioned your bag. "I-I don't know what you mean, if the reactor had a crack- things would be bad," you stuttered backing up slightly, if your hands were merely jittering before they were utterly shaking now which greatly concerned Bruce. 

Still, what was Tony hiding?

"Sure you do, you picked it up and looked at it when I left your room last, you know; security cameras and stuff." - the same time as the fluctuation in gamma ip within the tower.

Oh god no. Your stomach flipped, not in the hands of that man, the man who pulls and pushes things to see their integrity, that chains up those who don't intend to run away just to see what they'll do. 

You eyes shifted to the hand that still hid behind Tony's back which he then presented on the table along with a very black duffel bag. Your breath hitched. Your shoulders rose and dropped of their own accord, you lifted a hand to your mouth, and found yourself biting your lip.

"Tony- look at what you're doing to her." Bruce implored, worried.

Stark knew a panic attack when he saw one, he knew them well, but he didn't care. You were hiding this in his own tower, was it a weapon? What did you intend to do with it? You could be putting his people in danger? He unzipped the bag and it fell open to show one clear orb and an old tablet with illegible writing on it. 

You felt numb all over, this had to be a dream, this was your worst nightmare.  _ Meant to be safe and sound, safe and sound.  _ You should never have stayed. That day you realised you could lift this weight you should have run instead of begging to stay. You bit harder into your lip to let yourself feel something.

Tony approached the ball with his gloved hand.

"Don't touch it," your eyes had slitted, your voice had come out animalistic, your teeth bared, your hand fell away. You're whole demeanour changed. You'd protect them, even if you had to be a monster to do it. You walked forward to the bench, grasping its steel edge violently. There was a sound of warping metal as you left imprints.

"Stark!" Bruce warned.

"And what? That boy in the ninth grade did he try to touch it?" Stark sneered.

He had his assumptions too; let him have them. What he thought of you was nothing, those things; they were everything. "Do not touch them." You seethed again.

But Tony Stark wasn't a man you told what to do. "What?" Through the terror of the woman in front of him he smirked, "like this?" He reached out again cockily.

The moment Iron Man's glove touched the crystal ball there was a sudden blue shock wave emitted from it and within the clear orb was a golden fire swirling and what looked like- an eye. It was like the power of the Arch Reactor had been released, it hit everyone in the room and blew out the windows, you were knocked off your feet and the ball rolled off the table next to you. 

Your ears rang in a disorienting manner. There was a burning sensation on your torso where it had hit but it faded quickly with your healing. You slowly found your feet once more. 

You didn't think you could be any more angry. Of course he had to do exactly as you had told him not to. "Are you quite finished Tony Stark?" You spat the words, tongue loose in anger, picking the orb from the ground and placing it back into the bag. You were still in shock from the wave and so was he.

Stark's dark eyes were blown wide, he hadn't exactly expected that.

"If that will be all from you,  _ Avengers, _ " you sneered the name, "Then I am going to take my bag and leave, you'll never hear from me again." You were tired of these people, there was good but there was also pain that came with human interaction. 

"And you; Tony Stark," you pointed, treating his own name as a slur, after zipping up your bag. "If I ever see you again in my life, it will be too soon."

Iron Man was still deadly quiet, he wasn't even looking at you now. 

It wasn't until you heard a sort of gruff breathing, that you could see what had shut the mighty mouth of Tony Stark. You turned. The green, the muscles bulging from under the skin. That's- the Hulk. You'd seen footage. But he was much bigger standing right in front of you. He let out a blaring roar and you held your bag closer to you. The sudden pain and shock of the orb's power must have unleashed him. You shuffled back. Should you really fear him? What could he do to the likes of you? 

The big green gamma creature looked to you then to the now open window and made his choice that he'd rather terrorise an entire city than only two people, and so jumped to the world below.

On the loose he could hurt so many people. How were they to stop him? You looked to Tony's armour, it was already partially destroyed it wouldn't hold up to that. 

You made a split decision to trust Tony Stark. You hoped that you wouldn't regret it or at least live to do so. You offered him the bag  with a shaking hand and he grabbed it confused. That bag meant more to you than your life. But not the lives of others. You couldn't have that on your conscience- if you could stop it, you would. 

You were the only one who could get down there quick enough before he could cause too much damage, you weren't brave, you knew what Banner would feel if he killed and came back to himself. You didn't wish that on anyone. "Stark, you will lock that in the chest of draws in my room. It means more to me than you could ever understand." There was sincerity in how you spoke.

He kind of nodded in a daze. "And what do you plan on doing?" Tony began to frown, catching on slightly. 

You picked up the one tonne weight from the corner of the laboratory where you had left it. And brought it to the edge, where the window once was. "I'm- I'm going to try my luck -Stark I am trusting you with everything here -Please put it back where you found it. -and maybe send for the others to maybe scrape me off the pavement if this doesn't work."

"Wait you're going to-"

You didn't want to leave your new found safety in the tower, the impending invisible brick wall you felt was broken by a roar in the distance. "-quickest way down." You interrupted. Feeling the dazed from the slight explosion, the warmth from Clint Barton watching over you, the heartbreak from disappointing your hero, the complete anger at Tony, your little schoolgirl crush on Banner and the jealousy you held for Romanoff, you jumped from the second highest floor of Stark's tower of overcompensation. 

Only then did you considered your own mortality, would you actually die from this? Could you actually die? Your stomach seemed to float in your chest in the free fall of it all. Your mind went blank.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the 46 kudos :,)   
> the comments have been lovely also  
> -I know you're all waiting on Bucky.. but it'll be a bit before he shows up  
> A sweet segue to plug another story on the sly.. :3 If you're into multi universe and Mr. Barnes I'm working on another story.. if you're into that~  
> Thank you for reading! sorry for the cliffhanger D:  
> Stories aren't fun without at least one of those!!


	6. Puny you

You were halted about five meters down by the snapping of your right wrist; lolling from the length of the chain and stopped by the weight of the black box. You bit back the need to scream. 

Yeah, that fucking hurt, the cuff had your hand angle in a disgusting way, five meters probably wasn't much in the ways of how tall this building was but it would have at least brought you one story closer to the ground. Who knows? Those few meters could save your existence- that's what you had intended, but hanging up here now, looking down- it wouldn't make any difference to  _ that _ height. 

Nowhere to go from here but down. You could see Banner approaching people of the sidewalk in the distance. Your resolution hardened again. You pulled the chain with all your strength, kicking off the closest window and the weight came down too, unanchoring your fall. 

As the tonne was much heavier, you had to dodge it as it passed you falling. It began pulling you faster to the ground. It would be okay -you hoped. You had been carrying that thing around for a couple of days, you could handle about at least tonne of gravitational force couldn't you? You hadn’t crunched the numbers, you just hoped it didn’t surpass that tonne. 

This was going to hurt. A lot. As you met with the ground to formed a roll, just as Romanoff had told you to do. Though, you doubted she had meant for you to use the technique jumping from a building. 

 

Your strong arms took much of the force as you rolled forward. You huddled in a ball for a while before peeking. Well- you weren’t dead. Your body parts were all intact, your hand was still a little mangled, through the throbbing pain you straightened out the fingers- the skin around felt it was being stretched painfully around the disfigured bones, then the wrist, making various popping noises. You arched your fingers, moving wasn't something that hand wanted to do right now- you cradled it to you. 

You looked around. You were in a crater of your own making. None of your toes were missing. Where were expecting a bloodbath, but you had felt worse off yesterday taking on the two Shield agents. What had you done to survive this? The crater, how had you made it? You didn't really remember. You were balling up and then you closed your eyes and... Probably best not to dwell on it, there was a slight smell of burning asphalt, but that couldn't have been you, could it? 

You picked up Tony's damn weight with your arms careful not to bother your right hand and ran toward where you assumed Banner had gone; you discerned this from the various potholes and things that had been 'smashed'. The chain trailed sadly behind you. 

Bruce's greener form had only made it to the park beside stark tower by the time you got to him. 

He was just a big green guy, and you were full of adrenaline from jumping from, like, the tallest building. 

How tall was that thing? You would have to ask Tony next time you see him -given that he had done what you asked, if not, rather than asking him the height of his building, you would throw him from it. 

There wasn’t many people in the park, even less when Banner was sighted. It was pretty much only you and him and a couple of overturned picnic benches and some outskirting trees. 

-You hadn’t actually thought of what you intended to do when you were finally in front of him. You didn’t fear him so much, hell, you jumped that building, you think you’re pretty much invincible at this stage. So you kind of mosied on up to him, like that was a good idea or something. 

He was too busy overthrowing yet another table that had been riveted to a slab of concrete in the ground, to notice when you were but a couple feet away.

“Banner!” You called him to attention. You wondered if it were appropriate to call him Hulk, were they the same identity or separate? 

You tried to straighten your right arm out, dropping the weight to the ground, you would give this- man(?) no reason to think you weak. You had read books on animals, you were basically challenging him. You had to look big, scary and invincible, then he may give you some sort of respect. 

But- He was even bigger than you thought, maybe even seven or eight foot tall, scarier too, very wide with rippling muscles under greening skin and an ugly snarl on his lips. You'd never felt so pitiful- never so weak. 

You were regretting saying anything at all, he looked down at you with a face of complete rage, he had Banner’s features but they were skewed into something more terror inspiring. 

No, he couldn’t hurt you. You reminded yourself. Well, he could hurt you, but he couldn’t kill you. You set your jaw and tried to remain emotionless.

The unsettling twitch in his muscles said he’d probably like to give killing you a try.

You just stood there with his full attention. “Hey- er, big guy,” You tried not to be too patronising. 

You weren’t all that great with children. In fact you detested the little buggers. You only hoped you could soothe this big one, or was he more like a bear or wild cat? Where was his mental capacity at, human or not-so human? You didn't know and so you didn't know how you should act. You felt you were walking a tightrope- without the knowledge of how to. You thought people were hard, now this?

Your initial attempt didn’t go down well, the Hulk slammed his fists down and you could swear you felt the entire earth shake. Then he gave an animal-like roar centimeters away from your face, at decibels that vibrated the whole way through you and left your ears ringing, the shear capacity of his lungs rustled through your hair and your mustard cardigan.

Suppose it was cruel to assume he was child like? You stood your ground in front of the giant man instead of cowering in fear like he was used to. 

Your heart beat wildly in your chest through your adrenaline rush, rather- you just about roared back at him like a lion fighting for dominance. “Yah! Knock it off!” You yelled back not fearing if you were to anger him further. 

Banner, or what you thought to be Banner cocked his head to the side, making a face of utter befuddlement. You were yelling at him? No one yells at Hulk!

“Sit with me.” You commanded with a scowl, sitting was probably easier to manage than him standing up there so tall, you would less likely to be kicked. He might even listen to you then, because talking to him was your only option, you weren't a fighter and even then, you might just piss him off. You sat cross legged in front of him.

Hulk didn’t like being told to do, especially from puny humans and so he told you; “Don’t tell Hulk what to do!” Which was nearly decipherable from the decibels it was pronounced at.

As you were sitting you didn’t have any time to react to what happened next, the big guy picked up the chain, lifting the weight like it was a piece of cardboard and your precious wounded wrist dangled from that chain -dangling you from it in turn. 

So this was the strength of the hulk- you were far more out matched than first thought. You didn’t want to show weakness and so bit into your lip from crying out in pain. 

Yes!- you were as big and scary as the Hulk, you had to have him believe that so he might listen. You scowled at him directly, hanging from your wounded wrist. “Put. Me. Down.” You scolded aiming a drawn brow and glare through your eyelashes.

“You don’t tell Hulk what to do!” He repeated to the puny human.

You were thrown hard and fast, the tonne weight speeding after you until you hit a large twisting oak on the outskirts of the park, you could see the little black box trailing after you. 

It was going to hit- The weight slammed into the same tree; right by your face. So this is what Cap felt when you almost punched him? You tried to move. 

There was an immaculate pain in your side suddenly, as well as your back and head, but that seemed manageable in comparison. The tree shrieked as you peeled yourself from it. 

A stray short branch stuck into your middle from the back. There was nothing weirder than having something sticking out of you. You felt bile rising at the back of your throat. There is a fucking tree coming out of your stomach. If you moved would your insides become outsides? It had to come out somehow. You hissed as you slid steadily from the impaling branch. There was a stabbing pain in your gut, it had moved things about in there.

God, you feel awful. But you wouldn’t show it, the Hulk still watched from afar. You grinned- you smiled in the pain. He did this to you. There were whisperings in your head- he was nothing, the glory of battle called- kill.  _ Kill.  _ The hand that could still respond clenched into a fist. 

Hulk didn't like that. That smile, the murderous intent. No- Hulk was scared of nothing, especially puny humans. 

The tonne dragged steadily along the grass from your shattered arm. At least your legs were fine, for now. You walked back to where you once sat in front of him. “Sit. With. Me.” You ordered the Hulk smiling chillingly up at him. 

He wasn’t a child- nor an animal, you saw that now, he was a defiant, angry teenager that wanted only to break things. He needed a parent to put him in his fucking place. 

Your left hand wanted to lash out at him but you held it back. You let out a calming breath. Again sitting cross legged in front of the big guy. 

-Not scared of puny humans- he was utterly stunned, so stunned that he sat down. The Hulk kind of let his feet fall out from underneath him, his rear meeting with the ground with a thundering  _ thump _ . His hands came to splay out in front of him, his fingers ending by each of your knees.

You all but bounce on the ground from the reverberation, something jarred in your back from the sudden movement. It felt sick- it felt wrong. But there were more important things. 

Suppose it would have looked strange? You in your floral dress, mustard yellow jacket, scratched up glasses and bare feet, sitting in the middle of a park of upturned tables, beaten bloody, across from the big green man, in, what were once respectable straight-leg, brown pants, that now ripped at the seams. 

You thought back to the laboratory, to what Banner had intended to say before Stark ceremoniously pooped on your parade. You gazed on the beast sadly the angry fire dimming from your eyes- your fearless and unauthorised smile faded. He was right, “You fear this,” You raised an unmangled arm referring to the green guy in front of you. “-You’re just like me Banner,” 

You stretched that same hand out to brush against his. He flinched away for a moment. He always kept eerily calm to stop the big guy coming out. It must be taxing. You had often starved yourself while living alone to reduce your strength, just so maybe you could live some sort of normal life. It didn't work. Neither of you lived a normal life- neither of you asked for this.

You still weren’t scared of him? But he had flung you against a tree! Hulk didn't understand the girl in front of him, but Bruce somewhere within him did.

“People call us monsters, hell, we call ourselves monsters, but we fear it because what we might do to others.” You look into his big brown eyes, you weren’t one to do this usually, “You don’t want to hurt anyone Banner.” That's what differs you from a mere monster. Monsters couldn't feel something as human as fear.

Instead of the anger that seemed to be ever present on the ‘other guy’s’ features there was a hint of sadness. His muscles no longer edged in his chest to destroy something. He was calming down. The snarling sound of huffed breaths became slow and steady.

You looked at your hands, one looked mangled beyond repair, you might need someone else to pop it back in for you, you didn’t think you could bring yourself to do it again. 

Yes, you fear it. You fear killing again. You look up again and were met with the dark galaxy that was Bruce Banner, leaving only a behind’s imprint of what he used to be.

Bruce pulled himself from the ground and took a couple steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Doctor Banner-” You looked away, a faint blush on your cheeks. “-Y-your not wearing- ”  _ Anything.  _ His pants had finally given up as he formed back and completely disintegrated, they were left on the ground over -there.

He looked down abruptly. “Oh- I,” He didn’t know what to do.

Yet another moment with the good doctor was ruined by unfortunate circumstance. It had taken you to see  _ all  _ of Banner to realised he was indeed naked before you announced it. Yeah, that was never to be unseen.. but did you really want to unsee it? 

You hurriedly pulled on the chain to your tonne with your good arm, to slip your cardigan over it- it felt like playing twister as a broken doll but after a time you got it free before passing it to Bruce who buttoned it to himself as you tried not to look. It would have looked a lot more humorous if you hadn’t just had that moment with him... and seen his junk. 

He noted the blood on the cardigan- and the puncture hole in the back of it- and the front of it. “- are you okay did I hurt you?” Honestly he couldn’t remember much apart from you finishing the sentence he had started in Stark tower and the conversation held after.

“-actually don’t think I can stand,” You smiled up at him like it was no biggie, like there hadn’t been a fucking tree branch hanging out of you moments ago and your hand didn’t look as it did. 

You thought you couldn’t possibly feel much more pain as you did yesterday, but you did. Oh dear lord did you feel it. "-Going to have to get Steve Rogers, he is the only one who can carry the lead box,” You sighed hopelessly, falling back into the grass- would he even come for you? After such a falling out? 

There could be a shard of tree still hanging out inside you, it might have played with your spinal cord because you were feeling off. You tried not to panic. You let out slow, deliberate breaths. "You might want to hurry," you bit your lip. You weren't going to cry, even if it was terrifying, even if it hurt. You scrunched your eyes closed tightly. It would heal wouldn't it? 

You'd be able to feel carpet between your toes again, wouldn't you? You had never had to deal with such extensive injuries before, you grew a tooth back last night, it would be okay- hopefully. You just didn't know- and it terrified you.

Before Banner could even take off towards the tower, the other Avengers were on the scene, they were all suited up, and, he assumed, it was for him. 

They were surprised to see him a lot less green than they anticipated and a lot more mustard yellow. 

Romanoff almost blushed to see him only wearing your cardigan before remembering her stoic mask.

Banner saw Rogers looking behind him to you. "Steve, I think I bashed her up pretty bad," is all that came out, he was already beating himself up for what had happened to you, anyone else would tell him it wasn't his fault, but in his eyes it was. 

You kept your teeth clenched against the hurt, it seemed to all be setting in now, no more adrenaline, just the aftermath. You felt incredibly grounded like you were sinking into the earth.

"Or it might be that she took a nosedive from the lab to ground floor." Tony Stark added very unhelpfully. Where Banner thought that this was his fault, Stark knew that this really was his. His mouth was just made to quip.

"She did what?" Barton said in an almost squeaky voice his bow all but falling from his grasp.

Tony gave a solemn nod. Those things must have been important to you, he thought remorsefully, you did say not to touch- and like the stubborn prick he was, of course he did. If they were weapons you would have used them on everyone by now, it didn't seem your intention and he shouldn't have flew off the handle and probably asked you calmly about it.

Clint dashed over to you like a Saint Bernard as if you were trapped in the snow. "You idiot, what did you do?"

"I left a crater," you half-gloated through gritted teeth though you wanted to smile again like you had before but all that came was a grimace.

"What hurts?" Romanoff was on your other side in a full, tight, black suit that did her curves justice.

You were probably dying- but she definitely took your spotlight, you had thought this deliriously. "It's not what hurts- it's what doesn't." You choked a sob you swore you wouldn't let loose. "-I can't feel my legs." You lifted your good arm to shield your eyes from those watching. Damn it. You didn't cry.

Banner flinched remarkably. 

Romanoff and Barton looked at eachother before Clint started panicking, the damage was done to your spine, he had to move you, there was nothing else for you. The archer cradled you in his arms, lifting you from the ground like a perfect big brother should. "Steve, get the weight." He called back already hurrying to the med bay in Stark tower.

 

* * *

 

 

You were fading in and out of consciousness slightly, eh, what drugs did they give you? You saw colours you had no idea existed.

"I'm telling you it all fits-" was that Banner? His voice was kind distorted in your ears, ears that heard everything.. including that pretty butterfly outside, huh, what? "But there were these scorch marks----" you couldn't focus, though you knew that you probably should. It was like staying awake in friday’s last class.

"Well, tell her then!" That's Tony, fuck that guy, what were they talking about?

"It's not our place- to tell her---," fading. Butterfly, bee- bird…? Tweet. Tweet.

"So what? We wait till he comes here and tells her? It could be years-" Tony slapped his hands against his thighs exasperatedly. You were going to throw that man off Stark tower one day.

"Promise me- you won't--," Bruce; what you talkin bout? Was that a puppy out there?

It didn't matter, you felt awesome! And sleep felt even awesomer!

 

* * *

 

 

You slept there. For days. Banner had said that might happen, the healing process comes easier to everyone while sleeping, your body would shut down for a while to repair. 

Clint held his chin- that star spangled man in tights hadn't been in to see you. Not once. Barton would know, he had gone back to his favourite hobby of watching you like a hawk. Even Tony had been in. He left two strange presents on your bedside table with a little hand written sign that said something along the lines of 'do not touch or Princess might kill you'. Clint definitely heeded such a warning, finding himself watching for people wanting to touch those object as well as you- though there weren't many people in this private room in the tower's hospital wing. 

Days in and still no Cap. He didn't know why, but it unnerved him. You and him had seemed so buddy-buddy in the first days and now he won't even see you after taking on the Hulk? 

Suppose he could use a break from the watching? Your status didn't seem to be changing. "I promise I'll be right back," he had said it as if you could hear. Planting a soft kiss in your hair before messing it up in his large archer's hand. A dreamy smile overcame your sleeping form.

 

Barton found Steve in the training room, along with a couple of beaten punching bags. Was he angry? What was wrong? "Hey Steve, I noticed you hadn't gone to see _______,"

Of course he would notice, Clint Barton saw everything, especially concerning you. "Yes, we had a bit of a falling out." He confessed punching the bag twice as hard as he had been doing before, the cut of his shirt made show of his glorious muscles working. It didn't feel right to see you even now.

Barton furrowed his brow, what could possibly be so important that it would mean leaving you alone in a hospital bed? "What was it about?" He asked seriously. Perhaps he was taking this overprotective brother figure a little too seriously? Clint folded his arms to make himself look bigger next to the super soldier.

"I-its, she told me she had meant to kill that boy back in high school." He punched the bag once more.

"And you believed her?" Prominent lines were shown as the archer scowled at Steve. "You think the same person who jumped from this very building to save a couple of people having a picnic from the Hulk would actually want to kill someone on purpose?" He squinted up at the taller man. "Isn't that a little stupid?" Rather than hitting Steve in the head like he wanted to, somehow wanting to blame him for you being in the hospital bed, he just settled with insulting his intelligence and leaving the room; seething.

Steve was left there stunned. Romanoff was right, he had gotten too close while watching you. That didn't mean he wasn't right. Hadn't he judged from what was written on paper? Still, it was someone's death, and he had been just a kid, it was no small thing. He was torn between morals, he punched the bag even harder this time and it became unhooked, falling from its place with a great  _ thump _ on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

You woke up a rather a long time later with a happy stretch, from your fingers all the way to your little toe. You had toes! That you could feel! Nothing hurt but there was a strange cold feeling in your arm, just behind your elbow. You opened your eyes to about a squint and took in that you had a drip hanging above you. 

Oh god, everything was so white and pristine, you had to be in another hospital- but this bed was so huge- was this Stark's doing? Your right hand looked fine, in fact even more so, you were free of the Stark-metal cuff. You flexed and unflexed it happily. 

Then you noted the two stern looks in the room. Banner looked at you under scrutiny and Hawkeye gave a looked of the disapproving family member he was playing to be. To avoid the looks you turned your head to the side pretended you couldn't see them. 

On the bed-side table were two very important objects. Your plaque and your orb, untouched.  _ Safe and sound, safe and sound. _ It seemed there was a note warning everyone from bothering them. You realised the nickname used, Stark had left them there for you. He had done mostly what you asked and kept them safe. Good. Though you might want them in that draw more- less on display as they were- but this might be the best of Stark's capability to follow orders.

"We have put you on a large amount of sustenance replacers." The good doctor said -there was no hello or welcome back? 

Damn.

"It seems your body wants to heal faster than it already does, you just have to treat it right," Banner still looked stern but there was a sparkle in his eye that said he found that most interesting. He suspected your body might even be able to not get harmed at all- unless maybe you were tossed around by the other guy- even then, it would heal quick enough. Though it sounded impossible, he had seen it happen.

Ah, so that's why the stern looks were there? Mum and Dad wanted you to eat your vegetables.

"If I am right, you need much more than the average human," still that glint stayed put, "you'll be given multivitamins and protein shakes with each meal."

Oh god, could you just go back to sleep? Were they proposing a diet? You just woke up! This is rude!

"And you will take them," Barton eyed you. He didn't want to pace the hallway outside an operation theatre ever again. They had to pull a small twig that had split from the main branch and sat inside you, screwing everything up. Banner had told him had you been in perfect condition your body might have just spat the stick out all by itself.

Gah, why was he so mean to you?

"Mum, Dad, her rockstar boyfriend wants a word." Jarvis notified him when Banner decided to give you a little adrenaline nudge into waking.

You were happily interrupted by Tony Stark creeping in. It was better than talks of dieting for your super strength to be even more super. 

His facial hair was looking as trim as ever, another favourite band shirt adorned and the Arc Reactor glowing faintly underneath. He always seemed to commandeer the room when he shows up.

Clint eyed him suspiciously.

"It's okay, I'm not going to do anything- that she doesn't want to do," he flashed a wink your way. 

You chuckled forgetting you were still pretty angry at him, this guy was all words, you knew he loved his Ms. Potts.

Clint glared daggers for a moment before leaning over to you, messing your hair around and whispering, "He does anything creepy, tell me, and I'll screw with his current suit model."

Oh, that did sound kind of promising. You might tell him to, even if Tony was on his best behaviour. 

The doctor then leaned in closer to you with his dark eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did-"

"-My decision to intervene- wasn't any of your business." You cut him off with a wave of your new and improved hand; now without chains. You weren't taking an apology from him.

"Still- I, just thank you, you stopped me before-" he looked down.

You just smiled and nodded, you hoped you didn't have to do it again. Leave that kind of thing to Romanoff, she was good with words. She was good at everything. You just so happened to know what to say at that point in time.

The two then escaped the room, leaving you alone with Tony Stark; the casanova of machinery.

You squinted at him, what was he doing here?

"Listen uh, _______," he sounded awkward.

Had he actually used your name?

"I just- I'm sorry," he scratched at the back of his neck in an awkward a gesture of apology.

You blinked. You didn't think Stark had the ability to say sorry, it wasn't in his dictionary. It sounded sincere too.

He came to sit on the edge of your bed without invitation. "-do you remember that whole thing a year ago when I single handedly stopped a nuke from blowing up Manhattan?"

Because  _ that _ didn't sound like pompous gloating- you didn't see where he was going with this.

"I was in that portal, I didn't think I was coming back, I couldn't breath and then-" he fell for what felt like forever.

Your eyes moved to where his hands were fiddling with each other. He knew fear as well. These heroes, they could only show bravery because they knew fear in the first place.

"Just don't think you're alone with this condition. I know what it's like, the first time it happened I thought I was poisoned," Tony's big dark eyes looked sad, he cleared his throat. "It's them isn't it?" He pointed in the direction of the hospitals wing's side table. "Your anxious about anything that would happen to those things." And they may not just be important to you- whatever upturned you flat was probably after them too. What had you gotten yourself into?

If they were safest here, here you should stay. Suppose they needed some sort of explanation? "-don't remember anything from before eight or nine years ago," but that you assumed they already knew, whether they believed it or not was up to them. "I was much stronger then, didn't know what I would crush from a mere touch. -I was left only with that crystal ball and metal tablet, and nothing else but like... An order," you supposed. "-to keep them 'safe and sound'" you had nothing else but that one order, so it took you over, it became your everything- consumed you until nothing else was left. You needed nothing and no one; only them.

"So you don't know what they do?" He raised a brow, naturally if it were him he would have dissected it, found out how it operated, who created them. "Do you even know what that piece of metal says?" He cocked his head to the side, how could it be so important that you would throw your life away for it? Lock yourself away for it? To him it made no sense.

"'Those who sit above in shadow' but that was just a dream- so who knows?" you thought for a moment, "-Not going to take them away from me are you?" You felt your nervousness speak for you.

"I don't think it's a weapon, though it didn't like contact with my suit, the glove I touched it with is stuffed. Completely refuses to connect up with the Arc Reactor's power. I think I might keep it as a trophy. But- you can keep them to yourself, I guarantee that they will be safe here." He looked over at the two objects with inquisitive eyes. "If there ever came a time you wanted to know what they are, Banner and I wouldn't say no to looking at them for you."

You looked unconvinced, it would probably be a very cold day in hell when you agree to let him touch either of them again. You just nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

In your pink satin pyjamas once again, you got to sit on your own bed. The hospital was yet another slice of Avenger’s tower, the ground floor for convenience. This place really is huge, and you don't only think it because you have jumped off the thing. 

Your two artifacts were back in the draw where they will now stay, just as you will stay here, it was nearing time for the news, you have missed out on many days worth of global information. You kept on feeling for the cuff on your right hand but it was gone. The snide members of the news team were tearing Stark a new asshole, it seemed the Stark weapons were still being found in areas of war. Suppose that's where he had came from the day of the orb's mini explosion?

-What was that? You gave a sniff. Food was coming your way, and so was a multitude of chalky smelling pills and a chocolatey protein shake. Oh you weren't looking forward to that. The first thing you noticed when the person entered was the tray; it was twice the size of its usual counterpart. They were really planning on feeding you until you burst. Then there was the heroic features, the blue eyes, the squared jawline. You didn't think you would be seeing Cap any time soon.

"-leave it over there, I'll get to it later," you said absently, pretending a story of a robbery on a hollywood actor was much more interesting than you actually found it.

"I, ah, have been instructed to make sure you finished it all by Hawkeye." That meddlesome sniper.

He was just going to sit there and watch you eat? You thought you were over this! The chains were already off. You sighed as he placed it on the end of your bed as he used to do and you unleashed the one super-cloche. Not one but two slow cooked beef and slaw sandwiches, and they were huge. Eh, things weren't so bad, but then you looked to the small plastic cup full of God-knows-what in pill form, next to it was a nasty lumpy looking shake. But a piece of chocolate cake for after. Could you really eat this all?

 

You could, and damn did it go down well, you don't remember the last time you felt so fully satisfied. You were now left with the cup of pills and shake. 

Up until now Steve hadn't said a words other than voice his orders, he sat in his chair, watching. 

If you were to take these would you get stronger? More prone to hurting people? You remembered how it was before, you felt like a beast surrounded by china dolls- you couldn't go through that again. 

You thought back to how you almost punched them man across from you and flinched. You sat there staring at them, you couldn't not take them. Cap was over there, watching your every move. You picked one up on its own and inspected it in a shaking hand.

"What's wrong?"

The sudden voice had you drop the stupid thing with a jump and it landed in with the others. "These things -make me stronger."

"Yes, what's the problem?" Steve didn't see it.

"-don't want to be stronger -I don't want to hurt-" You trailed off in your confession. You couldn't control it as it was now, imagine if you were even stronger. This was something Banner already knew and yet they were still staring up at you from the silver tray; prescribed by the very man who you thought understood.

This statement contrasted what you had said about that boy in ninth grade. You said you wanted to kill him. "But Banner said it would help you regenerate faster, isn't that something you want?"

"At such a cost; it's not." You said bluntly playing with a red and white pill.

"Stop being so self sacrificing." You looked up at the super soldier that now wore a bit of a scowl on his angular features. "When people care about you don't you think it's selfish to think like that?"

People care... About you?

"Imagine how delirious Barton was to find that you jumped from a building?"

Why was he raising his voice at you?

"If hurting people is what you fear, I can promise you we won't let you. We can stop the Hulk, stopping you with be a piece of apple pie." Cap stood finally.

These people, they were going to save you from yourself? Could they even? You couldn't even do it half the time yourself.

He sat next to you on the bed, facing the opposite direction. "I'm sorry that I ever thought someone like you could kill on purpose," he pulled some of your hair behind your ear.

"But I did, I killed him, I wanted to do it." You head fell only to land on his shoulder.

He stroked your hair absently. "It's just like when Banner claims he wanted to kill all those people. It's not you." 

These people- could never understand. You didn't set him any differently, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You just wanted- someone who was there for you, even if you had to pretend to accomplish it.

He silently passed you the vitamins and protein shake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the up and up- with some feels, hope you're all enjoying   
> ~Again if you want.. I have another Fic that isn't three years old.. If you want  
> thank you for the 53 kudos, you give me tingles in my nose and my toes~  
> Your comments also have been most kind!!  
> I love you all!!


	7. Detour

 

"Pickles! Pickles!" You were gaining strength rapidly. You let Rogers out of a death grip that Natasha had ‘shown’ you where you wrap your leg around his neck.

Shortly after the incident with the Hulk you found yourself attached to another box and you wondered about the structural integrity of Stark tower. The two tonnes sat there like a small guitar amp.

Where was he pulling this Vibranium? Sure it was only a dusting of the metal but still- you often forget how much money Tony actually has- and the connections. How had he actually got it on you when you were sleeping? How had he got it into the room at all? Cap couldn't lift it for very long.

Stark and Banner were somehow convinced you were very capable in lifting it. You didn't understand those two lately, it seemed they were hiding something from you, you guessed that everyone has their secrets, but there was this chilling feeling, it felt like this one was about you.

You were stuck in your room for a while before you could carry the thing in short bursts. When you could finally heave it around, you had to bring it down the stairs to the training room, because Jarvis simply refused to have the weight in his elevator saying it was ‘bad enough that you had it in the tower’.

You realised while training alongside Romanoff and Barton that their attacks seem to lack the weight behind them that they had started off with, until you could walk out of the training room without much but a couple of bruises.

You came to wear them out. They had to bring in Rogers and, well, within a few sessions you could pin him- sometimes.. on a _really_ good day. -Every other time?

"Whatever they're feeding you I want some too," He smiled when released.

Indeed, you were much stronger still there were no rippling muscles for you, you looked a lot of the same, in fact, starving yourself all that time never really changed you, guess that's why no one suspected you to be malnourished? Perhaps now your cheeks looked a little more blood filled, and your eyes a little less dark?

You did tests with Banner once a week and he kept on telling you how well you're doing. Things have been awkward with him since that day, not so much the Hulk out but the aftermath of seeing, well, _everything_. There was an Avenger’s tower camera that watched over that park across the way, and he found it strange that all you did to the big guy was talk to him and take a couple of hits, him and Natasha had looked over the video and devised a plan for next time he 'code-green’ed’. It seemed it was in a touch of the hand.

You were suspicious of those two, there was definitely something there, whether or not either of them had figured it out, you didn't know. Seems your school girl crush had found someone- who was perfect, oh well, your heart would go on. You couldn't exactly compete with perfect, and the time they had already known each other.

"-bunch of supplements don't make for a tasty meal." You smiled. You didn't find yourself fearing the power so much anymore, Cap and the rest of the Avengers were watching over you. Convincing you; you could actually do some good with this curse.

Cap scruffed up your hair and you punched him lightly on the arm.

It turned out to be a bromance made in heaven; you and Cap, you had finally found someone you could beat up that might as well heal as fast as you could.

You adjusted your glasses, you were still fond of the clothes you wore, you looked cute and innocent, Romanoff had called you the 'epitome of covert'. The one they least expect.

The light bump turned into him bringing you into a headlock. He could never see himself doing this to a little lady back in his time, times have changed and so has he. You also bring the worst out in him, it was like having a comrade, you were reminiscent of another time to him- though he still hasn't put a finger on why.

"Nü! -Steve why?!" He really messed up your hair this time.

"I got to get in my time before you're even stronger than me," he laughed.

"Yah! -Don't you have a date with miss Peggy today? -better hop to it soldier." You were muffled by his big arm.

"-it's not a date!" He said defiantly, Peggy Carter was older now but there was no hiding that blush, the remanence of a romance that never was still lingered "I am also going for a run with Sam Wilson beforehand,"

Now that was a name you had heard many times now without a face to put it to, was it a code name for a lady? Samantha? "-that a date too Rogers?" You would wriggle your brows like Tony can if you could.

He chuckled at that, “I would, but he’s not my type,” then you were released by that big arm finally and you stood dizzy for a moment before going to pick up Stark's weight.

You hadn't seen Stark’s well groomed face for a while, he had gone to see if he can crack what's going on in the Middle East with his weapons. Barton left to holiday with his family in a non disclosed location, after you last test Banner had found another nice, remote location to play ‘doctors’ in, and all who were really left was Cap, Romanoff and yourself.

If your mind was still as skeptical as it was on day one, you might have thought something was brewing to have all the Avengers disperse like that.

"Go get her -ya great fossil," you tittered as he walked away blushing madly.

Seriously, what was the fossil jokes lately?

You were left doing reps of the two tonne weight. Unfortunately it was getting easier; unfortunately- because that meant you would soon have to deal with the next one up.

 

* * *

 

"-Natasha, what's going on? -You seen the ninety year old virgin anywhere? Haven't seen him since yesterday," You answered your company bought Stark-phone lazily while laying on your bed, it was about noon and you hadn't been bothered to moved from it. You were eyeing a book on the other side of the room- it was so far away though. You recently got into romance again, maybe you were blossoming or something?

"He's with me, you're on speaker." Natasha spoke as she was behind the wheel of the monstrous, black corvette stingray.

She had taken a shining to you after the first training days. She liked to think you had no secrets, you were transparent and completely sucked at lying. These traits were hard to find in her line of work.

You were taking training seriously- the only thing she wanted now was to get you to leave that damn tower. Playing rapunzel wasn't cute any more, you could fight enough to protect yourself, but you still didn't feel safe out of four walls. You were lapsing into old ways and there was so many things she wanted for you to experience.

"-You told him about the lady that has photo of him sitting on her desk in accounting?" You and Nat thought it would be good for Cap to find him a nice lady of his own- to get him past Peggy Carter, though from what you have heard, that may take some doing. Agent Carter is an incredible woman.

Nat was explaining this woman in accounting to you last call. Since reading more romance the idea of creating a real life love story became tempting. And since you didn't have a life- you meddled with Steve’s.

At this you heard the redhead laugh and Cap grumble something under his breath. "He seems to be married to his work," she too was finding this task impossible.

Oh- that was no fun, speaking of work; "Why are you calling?" You asked curiously coming off rude as usual but you care less and less every day how your words came out- just happy they came out easier.

"We can't call and ask how our favourite Princess is?" She asked with a smirk you could hear through the speaker.

You damned that pet name, some had picked it up from Tony. Natasha used it to taunt you, even if affectionately.

They didn't just call, it's not what they did, if they wanted to talk they would meet you face to face. "What is it this time?" You sighed, another stupid mission.

"You know we can't say," Steve said remorsefully. He knew you were capable of looking after yourself- you had been doing so for the longest time. But he often thought of you all alone in the tower, even if you were surrounded in books.

It was fresh on his mind because Natasha was only saying moments ago that you should learn to feel safety away from it. The tower had become a safety blanket to you. And you were holding on tightly.

When they had missions you bummed boredly around with your weight, did some reading and worked on your book. "I know- but, let an author romanticize, bet it's warm. Bet it has beaches, when you aren't maiming people, you relax on those beaches. -Oh, do bring me back a tiki head." Beaches sounded amazing, you wanted to experience that, a car wash maybe even a rave. But- none of those things promised the safety that the tower did.

You had to admit, after a while your room on the residential floor had come to more or less mirror you old home. At least this apartment had a working bathtub that hadn't been blown up yet; there was always time.

You were slowly recreating your pacing trails in the carpet as with your wheelie chair marks, books came to pile around also. Barton had taken the liberty of buying you a book every now and again, little did he know that most of the avengers did the same. Adventure from Barton, machine and engineering books from Tony, war stories and history from Steve, romance from Romanoff, science and zen meditation from Banner. They had come to pity you that you didn't like leaving the tower, when that was the only thing they wanted to do.

"Are you daydreaming again?" Rogers scolded, though he loved the distant look when you did, just where did you go when you spaced out? Beaches? You had a very different view on what he did for a living, no, this was to be done in the dead of night in the midst of the ocean, it was going to be cold and dirty.

“-Not at all,” you grinned dopily.

Natasha made a hidden smile in return. Completely useless liar.

Roger's brows drew together. You couldn't stay in there always could you? Especially because you dreamt of so much more. "Listen, _______, there is this great shawarma place in downtown Manhattan, when I get back I'll take you okay?" The Captain forged a plan.

Nat secretly nodded towards Cap, lifting a hand from the steering wheel for a thumbs up.

The team spoke often of the victory shawarma they consumed after the battle of the Chitauri. You were usually bothering Tony to order it, because of curiosity, but Tony hasn't been home in a few days.

What was shawarma? You wondered curiously. Enticing as the food sounded, you didn't like the idea all that much. Out there, with all those people? You could step on someone by accident, blacken their foot- God forbid they would need an amputation. Your eyes went wide. Not to mention how in hell do you protect your artifacts without having your eyes on them.

After a time of silence, "hey, I'll be with you- it'll be fine." Steve promised.

Easy enough for him to say- he wasn't a ticking time bomb. But then again- even Banner left the confines of the tower, he could be scarier than you. You did your favourite thing and sighed. "You're right- it will be fun." It came out halfheartedly though you tried.

 

* * *

 

 

It was days till shawarma happened, whole freaking days of you doing nothing but lifting Tony's damn weight and to pace and fret, it washed over you like a small storm cloud; you were leaving the tower after so long.

You could scarcely feel the weight anymore, it was like lifting a handbag, you dangled the chain over your shoulder and held it like a knapsack. Boredom hits between the worry. You hadn't had a good dream in ages. Maybe you lost the magic?

You'd taken to drawing, it had been something you always wanted to pick up but your hands always trembled and the nervous tricks had you not able to hold a straight line. The shakes became fewer, with some of Banner's meditation tricks- though that didn't stop the worrying about Shawarma.

You often drew landscapes you had never experienced, faces you didn't know. It was like dreaming in waking life, but it wasn't quite the same, you couldn't understand the story through the pictures. The drawing you currently worked upon featured two black ravens perched on an old man's chair in a room of gold. His face was wise, held the many lines of wisdom in the crinkles by his eyes, in the length of his beard and behind his eye patch. His expression was warm, though he didn't seem to have a face that smile often.

The others had liked your drawings, guessed it was something you did before you lost your forgot everything all those years ago because your hand was well practised. Banner had said muscle memory was something hard to lose.

"Miss _______, Mr. Rogers is down stairs to see you."

Your hand fudged a line by the crinkle the old man's eye. A backpack filled with two favourite objects of yours, was you only solution to looking after them as you weren't about to leave them here alone. You had a pretty, dark, stretchy, floral dress on, at least you would look pretty in the face of terror that was going out for shawarma. It was just such a good word to say. Shawarma~ this dress in particular had deep pockets. Perfect for maybe, say, five meters of centimetre thick, onyx chain? You trudged down the stairs with the small amp sized box under your arm, totally forgetting through all your attempts to look vaguely normal, that shoes were a necessary part of that. "Steve!" You all but forgot being roped into going outside- embracing your bro with the arm that wasn't tied up with the box, around his middle.

He smiled distantly in response- though he'd admit; you weren't much of a hugging person. You must have really missed him this time; approaching him like a puppy.

You narrowed your eyes, there was something up with Cap, you cared even less about shawarma. "Hey, what's wrong?" If it was something to do with the mission he probably wouldn't answer.

"Just questioning some morals." Rogers said quietly. His mind was on what it was to protect, did it really mean holding a gun up to the world's head and calling it safety? All his life he wanted to do what was right, now he wasn't so sure what that was any more. Was the corporation he works for really protecting? Or doing just the opposite, so many secrets they had his skin crawl.

You cocked your head watching his thought process. "-if it bothers you, just don't think about it. -That's what I do," You smiled wonderfully, smiling had become an almost constant thing for you amongst the heroes. Yeah, you didn't think of your past anymore. Better that way. “We could skip shawarma and hang out here- if you want?” You tried to snake your way out of the situation.

But Rogers was thinking of the present, he was a soldier, who was he to question orders?  “How could I do that when you got all dressed up?” He asked knowing full-well what you were attempting to do. He shrugged before noticing your toes. Should he say anything? He looked to the box, that would mean you have to climb the stairs again. It would be okay, he doubted anyone would question it if you were next to him. He passed you a helmet and you looked at him funnily.

 

The wind danced through your hair. You didn't remember the last time you felt so alive- or shit-scared, Steve balance you between himself and the handlebars of his bike, his shield sat on his back preventing you from holding on behind so you got the best seat in the house instead, to which you held on like a scared cat digging your claws in.

You felt awful for the bike as it had to carry your weight along with you, but you were sure it was something Stark had tinkered with, it would be okay wouldn't it? He had the balance to keep you safe, you had never experience the thrill of having a leather seat between your legs. Well, that you remember.

 

Turns out shawarma is an Arabic dish, herbed shaved meat, hummus, couple of assorted bits of salad on pita. Damn good. It was in a much quieter location than you were anticipating, you were on edge but it could be worse.

Cap had relayed the story, that the last time he'd had it was when he saved the world last; a year ago now. And if there was a victory food, you would definitely call it this.

Steve was still distant the whole time, there must have been a big problem on his mind because he didn't eat much. Was it shameful you were eyeing the food he was merely playing with? Would it be rude to ask for it or should you sneakily just sort of peg it? He did bring you all the way out here on that death machine- it was the least he could do in giving you the scraps. Banner had made it so all you could consume was large quantities of food- you could have no less. You were built for feasts.

"Hey ______?"

You looked up at him sipping out of your strawberry lemonade he had derailed your thoughts on commandeering his food. It was the first thing he said in ages.

"Do you mind if we go somewhere before we go back to the tower?" He looked at you under those eyelashes you were a little jealous of, with the bright blue of his irises.

You made a small frown, really you'd rather go back to your safe hovel and have a nap. But there was something up with him- and something he needed to do? You patted your black backpack absently. You gave a nod. "-anywhere," if it makes him feel better.

Rogers noticed it, was it a good idea bringing those things around with you? But then again, if Shield knew they were in Stark tower would they come after them? Anything other worldly they seemed to be all over, especially because of how Fury felt about you. Was it a good idea to push you outside any further? You were seemingly a little pale.

 

The Smithsonian, he had merely dubbed this a ' _detour_ '? This was everything. This was epic! You just wanted to suck up all the knowledge from the plaques like a vacuum. Did they have things on dinosaurs? Oh! You found them most interesting! But the people- there were many.

Rogers had to literally drag you along, you wanted to stop and take in every single thing, but there was a specific exhibit he had wanted to see.

You hadn't even asked when he suddenly stopped the motorcycle, disappeared for a moment only to reappear in a blue cap from a street shop. It was like he wanted to go incognito.

There was a giant sign outside of the specific exhibit he wanted to go in. You eyed him suspiciously, you thought self inflation was Stark's game. "The Captain America exhibit?" You questioned slyly.

He seemed to blush as you followed, just what did this exhibit entail? There really was a lot of people. It shouldn't bother you, you were standing next to the very man the exhibit was about. You could snap into killing again at any moment. It would be easy. Thoughts lingered, you tried to hold onto your nerve.

A little boy across the way was wearing a red and blue shield motif upon his shirt. His eyes caught a glimpse of a pair of dirty feet in the crowd. How strange. His mother never let him do that! He looked to the owner. Then the owner's companion.

You still didn't like children- he was just so small and cute. And breakable. You looked at the kid and saw a future you'd never have. You shifted your eyes to Cap who the boy was staring at.

Steve raised a finger to his lips silencing the little one.

He gave a small nod with huge eyes.

Yes, Rogers would keep these people safe from you. You could see his reason for incognito now, imagine the explosions of people rushing towards him if they knew? You certainly wouldn't enjoy such a thing.

Rogers pulled the cap a little lower over his eyes. Not that; that would hide his inhumanly perfect figure.

This was actually a lot more interesting than first thought, forgetting the people were there. This was Cap's life just folded out before you. He was letting you see this? It felt a little private. But the bunches of people, didn't seem to care.

Oh, someone stood on your foot. You felt a snarl form, and dropped it as fast as you could. No matter how hard your skin was, that was still going to hurt, were those steel cap boots?

You found yourself shying away from the crowd further. You took a deep breath- you won't hurt what you don't want to. Control it. Your mind went to what was on your back. You shifted close in front of Rogers that he would bump into the bag every now and again with his chest.

He could see what you were doing, you were having him protect your back -was this a step too far? He wasn't exactly expecting this many people. It was a more than little humbling.

You stopped in front of an exhibit on the old clothes they would wear, there were seven or eight up there beside Cap's old suit.

"Captain America and his howling commandos quickly earned their stripes; their mission taking down Hydra, the Nazi rogue science division," the overhead spoke as you were looking at the exhibit.

These men, these good men were all gone now. You looked to Cap, he seemed to be reliving something that you shouldn't pry upon.

"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers, were both inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield."

You turned to find a large glass window that had James Barnes' face imprinted onto it. So this was him, the man who Steve speaks so highly of.

"Barnes is the only one of the howling commandos to give his life for his country."

You flinched at those words before looking at Steve. You put a hand on his arm, that distant and sad look he sometimes got when he thought no one was looking. He had it now. You rested your head on his shoulder.

"Can see how he got all those girls to go dancing with him," you said with a sad smile, you wanted to see Cap happy again. -Still James Buchanan Barnes was seriously something, strong jawline, perfect indented chin and a slight frown to his curled lips, his eyes were clear and deep set next to his tall nose... You had a sudden urge to feel the portrait.

It was then time for Cap to look at you, leaning on his arm looking dreamily on at the picture of his brother in arms. "You wouldn't be day dreaming again would you?" Steve asked. Seems you really _would_ have liked Bucky.

"-no idea what you're talking about," you stealthily licked your lips.

Rogers raised a brow, you were all too transparent to him now.

A faint blush came over your cheeks and he felt a pull at his lips.

He could say many things about you, Rogers could, even after only knowing you for a short while, after the past two days he'd had, you were there the only thing to have made him smile.

 

"-That, who is that over there?" You scrunched your face.

That might be the reason why Steve had taken such an immediate liking towards you. "That is little Paul Baker, he was in Bucky's unit." Yes, that is why your face was familiar. He was a splitting image on you. He had made for a scrawny soldier and neglected to talk about himself often- or at all. There were a few strong armed feats the he remembers being helpful to the team, he also remembered the kid having quite the opposite of regenerative powers. There was a certain bullet wound Baker left untreated because he trusted none of the other soldiers with it. James had called him arrogant, but Steve saw them as thick as thieves. The museum didn't have much on him, just a couple of old photos and birthdates a from his registration forms.

"Baker-" you felt the name in your mouth, you knew it. Had it been your own? Was this a relation? A father- a grandfather? Uncle? A short black and white quality clip ran in a loop, seemed that Paul had no interest in being filmed so the other commandos held him still, the smallest of them had the last laugh as he slipped a foot behind James' and sent the whole pack falling to the ground. Leaving only Baker smiling. He had a pretty smile for a guy.

"I didn't know him all that well," Cap came to rest his hand on his chin. It felt like a lifetime ago when he last thought of young Paul Baker, he was reserved enough to often fly under the radar "he followed Bucky around mostly- or was it that Bucky followed him?" His eyes ran over the plaque, another piece of film was caught of him; he held his helmet low to avoid the camera again as he was dwarfed by Bucky and Steve; himself.

Barnes had talked Rogers into letting Baker join the Howling Commandos after his platoon all but broke up, but reading the plaque now, he came to regret it. MIA- the same day Steve put the craft down in the water. Those weapons Hydra wielded- guess they could never know the casualties because they were reduced to ashes.

He came to mourn that he hadn't thought of Baker all this time. There you were standing right next to him now- family-less. The boy could have been your father? But the age difference was great, it was a stone's throw at a theory. But just what was your age? From the photos you had been ageless- he could still be your father, grandfather? In the name of Paul Baker, here and now; Captain America vowed to look after you.

Why was he looking at you liked that? You looked away from Cap awkwardly to the other looping video of where James Barnes had an arm around Baker's shoulder smiling such an enchanting smile while the boy tilted his helmet forward looking unimpressed.

 

* * *

  


There was a sort of tune, what tune was that? You were dazed. It was late in the night. Raging over your usual music you had Jarvis play, there was the most irritating noise. Your phone was lighting up on the small set of draws by your bed. The face of Romanoff was shown along side of your own in what kids were calling a 'selfie', it was a caller identification picture.

Why? Why the hell? In your old mind you might have jumped to more conclusions than this. Living like this in your safe tower had lulled you into a false sense of security. And so what would happen next would shatter all perceptions of that safety you held so dear.

"Nat?" You questioned unhappily in your sleepy state still wiping drool from your face. "What time is it?" You groaned further.

"______," she verified.

You noticed right away her voice was hurried, this sent you into a state of wide awake.

"Nat, what's wrong?" You felt your stomach lurch.

"Shield has been compromised, you need to get out of the tower, now," she didn't know how much they had on the Avengers only that they were already after Cap, that meant they could be after you also.

You felt as if you had fallen from your bed and plunged into an ice bath. "I-I don't- I mean- I can't." as cowardly as it came out you felt. You had made a perfect cave for yourself, books piled high, your laptop near- your plaque and orb close. The tower had always felt impregnable. Nothing bad could ever happen here.

"I am serious, I don't know who these people are, all the Avengers are going in deep cover, you have to follow." Cap had told her specifically to get you out of the tower. She thought you could hold your own better than he gave you credit though- but Steve wasn't having a bar of it.

You couldn't comprehend what was going on here. What could be so scary that the Avengers would go in hiding? "Nat! Let me come with you!" You tried earnestly. Please- you didn't want to be left alone if you couldn't stay here.

There was silence, she was wondering if she should tell you.

"I-I don't know if I should be out there alone, imagine what I might do-" you were even stronger than the last time you were out there alone. If they won't let you be with them you should stay here, it was safer for everyone that way.

"______, they killed Fury." She said finally. Their first order of business would be to clear out Avengers’ tower, where Nat and Steve were going you shouldn't follow, it wasn't safe. Before she had wanted you to leave the tower to experience the world, not die from it, you weren't quite that ready.

The world stopped around you. How could it be possible that a guy like that would get caught out? It didn't seem logical. You felt guilty for every bad thing you thought about him.

"I don't know what they would do to you if they found you." She said honestly.

-or what they would do to your nameless artifacts.

You bit at your lip, would you ever be allowed back to the safety of the tower amongst your friends? "I understand Nat, I'll disappear, stay safe will you? Cap too?" You felt like your family was being torn from you. You had to keep yourself under control, for them, if you caused a scene you would attract attention and you had no doubt they would come for you. The avengers would happily walk into a trap for you. It would all be over.

You felt numb gathering things and putting them in your bag. As if you simply couldn't comprehend the idea of leaving. Clothes, orb, money, tablet, supplements.

Then you stood there. You stared at the lift. Shield had clearance, only Tony could change that, your sanctuary was no longer safe. Again. Your lip trembled. You weren't going to hurt anyone. Steve said you wouldn't. Nat, Clint, Banner, even Stark had individually told you wouldn't. So why was leaving so hard? “Jarvis?” You whimpered finally.

“Yes Miss ______?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“I'm- okay,” you stuttered. “Can you handle the two tonnes in the elevator just this once? I need to leave in a hurry.” You reasoned with the computer.

One of Jarvis’s cameras focused on you, you overrided his safety protocols with urgency. “As you wish ________,” the machine replied.

With a ding the elevator hit your floor and the doors beckon you in. You held the weight to you, the bag of goods strapped tightly to your back. This was it. Leaving.

“Ground floor Jarvis.”  The doors closed and you had the distinct feeling of your stomach floating. Until- it stopped? It was sudden and with a jolt. The lights within flickered but returned. You look toward the illuminated floor numbers. “Why are we stopping?” You edged out, you heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You hadn't even left the building yet and things were going wrong.

“I am not sure- I believe I have been overru-” The British voice returned, before cutting out.

“Jarvis?!” You squeaked. “Get me out of here,” with that, to your relief the doors slid open, you would have to take the stairs. It was only a bit of elevator trouble. Probably happens all the time- in _Stark’s_ well endowed highrise? You took steps forward only then to note a figure in the doorway. His hair was slicked back and he wore a scar on his face. He looked to already be having a bad day with a blotchy blackened cheek on his pale skin. He was in full black.

“Are you going down?” His voice was gruff and sounded as if he was hiding an accent- Australian perhaps?

You cleared your throat and gave a precautionary sniff. You had smelt this man on Steve when he comes home from missions- he was Shield. “-no, I was just getting off,” you mumbled and tried to ignore the fact that this man probably had something to do with the death of Nick Fury. You stepped forward to escape the elevator without quarrel.

The Shield Agent’s dark clad arm intercepted your chest as you were about to exit. “No- I don't think so.” He shoved you backwards, and you let him move you, you didn't want a fight. He took up space next to you. “You're the Avengers’ little pet ‘Princess’”

You felt sick to realise how much they knew about you and the goings on within the tower.

His gloved hand lazily grazed through each of the buttons for the remaining floors while still threatening on your space. He was expecting to have you in this elevator for a while. The Shield Agent had a score to settle with the good Captain, and since he was unaccountable, you would have to answer for him. When the doors finally closed once more, the nameless agent stood next to you as any normal person would.

You were avoiding his gaze by now. Your jaw clenched tight. You wanted nothing to do with this situation. If you were quiet perhaps he would leave you alone. But these people were threatening your Avengers. You held your weight closer.

The agent took in your appearance. What could possibly be so important that you had it chained to you? “What’s in the box?” He asked casually as the door opened to the next floor.

So Tony didn't talk to shield about his experiments? It was clear you weren't aloud to leave so you avoided him entirely, turning your head.

“I asked you a question.” He returned firmly to your quiet defiance.

You mind was becoming darker. The bastard was really asking for it. A smirk recovered. He was, wasn't he? You turned. “-here.” You held out your ‘lead’ friend with two hands. “You tell me.”

He looked at you fishily. This was a trick wasn't it? But you weren't anticipating him so it couldn't be a weapon. The man promptly attempted to snatch the box away.

You took your hands away as he was attached to it. There was a popping as the Shield agent’s back was strain beyond what he was prepared for. His hands sunk to the ground quickly, putting his face on a trajectory for a well placed knee on your behalf. It happened in a matter of milliseconds, with a _dong,_ a _smack,_ and an eventual groan.

Not dead, just knocked out. So much for not hurting anyone. You pulled that weight from the unconscious body then proceeded to awkwardly stand next to it as the loft followed through, opening at each floor on the way out. You would have taken the stairs, but you were in a slight daze.

You did well didn't you? The man wasn't dead- you didn't think. You eyed the mass on the elevator floor, clothed in black. You hit him pretty hard. You should check. You shrunk robotically to your knees feeling your soul leaving your body.

What if he was dead? What if he wasn’t unconscious, but waiting? You lifted a shaky hand to the man’s throat. Relief washed over you- there it was strumming away. His heart beat and your guilt was evaporating. The elevator gave a final _ding._ Looking to the floor numbers this was it. You really dodged a bullet.

You returned to your feet, only to find yet another figure in the elevator’s doorway. No- make that one, two- five. Five agents in black, these all in swat gear hand had helmets hiding their identity. Your eyes went wide. Thinking quickly you spat out some words. “Oh my god- he- just collapsed.” You made out. “Any of you a medic?!”

Look- no one was convinced. It sounded like a child’s first attempt at acting. Each of them held their weapons closer, not a single one under the impression the man ‘just collapsed’. There was a row of ‘ _clicks’_ as each of the tactical rifles were taken of safety.

You weren't getting out of here were you? Those were guns. You never worked with guns, never trained against them and they were big guns. You cleared your throat awkwardly. “-I’ll just leave you tend to him.” You shone a queasy smile and intended to squeeze on out of there. You took steps to the side.

The men in black were a little dumbfounded that you weren't taking the guns aiming at you so seriously.

“Excuse me- I'll just, you know, get through here.” You shuffled in between two of them rather surprised that you were getting away with this. Guess you didn't look like much in your ranger pink pyjamas. Your heart had found a new home in your throat as you found yourself on a dangerous edge. Even Nat said she didn't know what they would do to you. They could stuff you like a bear and keep you in their headquarters as the trophy the monster they slugh- the almost-Avenger they actually caught.

The last Shield agent you were passing couldn't believe his team or your gall.

You felt a large gloved hand grab hold of your left shoulder. You let out a shaky breath. You know the maneuver. Clint had shown it to you, a gesture like this leaves their defence wide, but there was more than one. You weren't ready for this.

How did you know you were going to rip off an arm or something? These people were hunting Steve and Nat like foxes, and the thought made your blood boil. Just think- of Clint. You wouldn't tear him limb from limb. You closed your eyes. Blue eyes, blond hair, concerned look, strange resemblance to a mummy hawk.

The man behind was wondering if you were frozen. You would be easier to obtain than first thought. Perfect bait for Steve Rogers. _Bang._ Suddenly the floor reverberated as if through an earthquake.

You turned, hands free of the weight that may have left a dent in Tony’s marble flooring. As you shifted you dislodge his hand from your shoulder and yanked it forward, pulling him into your elbow. It made contact with the stunned man’s nose. _Crunch._ His body ragdolled forward. You caught the agent falling towards you and with the rest- and their guns. You went bowling. You tossed the first, ragdolled man like a eighty kilo bowling ball at the other men. Strike. Each of them hit the ground and cushioned the fall for the poor guy with already a broken nose. It wouldn't disable them, but it would give you time. You tugged the ‘lead’ weight to you and bolted from the vicinity. You were quicker and had more endurance than any of them. They would never catch you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 64 Kudos~ thank you all for the love and support  
> we are in Winter Soldier territory  
> The next couple of part need complete overall for rewriting  
> So updates may take a little longer~  
> thank you for your patience c: and for reading <3


	8. Robbed

 

You looked at your lunch: a steak sandwich from yet another diner; Haven't you been here? Haven't you done this? 

You could feel all the people around you, you closed your eyes and imagined an impenetrable bubble of personal space that encompassed you. You steadied your breathing like Banner had taught you in meditation. Regardless of your preventative measures, you couldn't deny the anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach- you didn't want to hurt these people, only being torn from your safe place and those you had come to trust was taking its toll.

You were scared you might lash out.

But there were other things out there that you should be more afraid of, you were reminded of the other night when you were trapped in an elevator with one of them. Banner would be proud, you think, that you hadn't seriously maimed anyone. You couldn't fly off the handle now, especially since you were doing so well, even if, with every passing moment that separated you from the avengers- you wished you had unleashed more pain in those who incurred this situation for you.

Seeking them out now would do far more harm than good though, you touched a strap on your backpack. It had been something Stark gave to you before- all of this, he gloated that the pack was mug-proof. You wondered if he had any inclination towards things heading the way they had, with all the precautions he had taken. 

You could almost feel the two objects on your back, they felt like heavy leashes, perhaps even more so than the actual chain on your wrist that connects you to the weight iron man strapped to you.

You had to avoid second story buildings in fear of falling through them, they just weren't built to Stark standards. You had pegged all the supplements you could get your hands on from the laboratory to the point where your bag rattled if you moved too quickly. 

You had to throw away your phone as it was probably tracked, you had gotten all the money out of your bank account on your first day, and now you were left to kick around New York until you were somehow signalled out of hiding. This could literally take months. You internally groaned wondering if years were possible too. 

You stayed in New York, though that probably wasn't what Natasha was alluding to when she told you to go into ‘deep cover’, you just- couldn't leave them. Who knew if Cap and Nat were even still in the state? Or country even? You only hoped they were close by. You didn't want to cause any trouble, but if you did, you could only pray they would stop you- you were much stronger than you were last time you were on the outside.

You shuffled your cap lower over your eyes, leaning a cheek in your hand and your elbow on the table. You weren’t about to get caught like last time and apparently hats made you invisible according to Steve attending his own exhibition. 

You forced yourself onto the steak sandwich after staring at it for a while. You were losing your appetite by the day but you remember promising Cap to keep your strength up. You missed him. It just wasn't fair! How could they break you up like this? You were happy- for the first time in.. no, you couldn't remember when. You gripped the table so hard it gave a groan.

You gave a sigh. There was nothing you could do- but eat a sandwich, which is what you decided to do.

"We have breaking news of a hostile situation on a highway in Brooklyn, Steve Rogers; Captain America has been caught up between police officers and a masked man-" you dropped your sandwich after three bites.

There was an aerial view from a helicopter. You could see the guns, the glint of a mechanical arm, a mask, knives, and Steve. Was he okay? Before you realised it, you were upstanding. What has he gotten himself into? Romanoff too? And some guy. He looked to be fight alongside them too. They- took him and not you? You bit your lip. You couldn't tell who was on which side- why were police shooting at your Captain? And why did it seem that he wasn't winning? You abruptly paced away from your sandwich- you weren't thinking clearly, all you knew was that people you cared about were being shot at- and it pissed you off. You started running. 

 

As you ran the pavement dug into your feet, the chain fell from your pockets and it flailed behind you. You ran like nothing else mattered, because- they were your friends. 

The footpaths of Brooklyn were full, you didn't get there as fast as you would have liked. Shoving people as lightly as you could out of the way, all you saw when you got to the highway was the mere aftermath; turned cars, bullet casings, smashed glass and was that an entire bus? There were still flames smoldering, and glass that cut at your feet. It was a battlefield. Your blood beat loudly in your ears. Where was Nat and Steve? Did they win? What would happen to them if they lost?

Police were on scene, holding everyone back. You sniffed around almost feverishly, so many scents, it confused you. You had to know where they were. The police were on the bridge, but it seemed they hadn't yet made it to the underpass below. 

There were crowds of reporters, you squished between them, you hated the feeling of being surrounded, your private, safe bubble had been completely obliterated, at least all were focused on what was in front of them and not on you. You were being jostled around by bystanders and reporters. You felt an underlying feeling of urgency, succumbing to panic. You felt claustrophobic and helpless. In a large pack the body heat was getting to you and your breathing became uneasy. Your people were out there and you were stuck in here. You had to find a way out. You had been too confident coming out here, you hadn't thought enough before acting. A sweat broke out on your forehead. 

Through the commotion of endless questions, you eyed the edge of the bridge. It was the least of what anyone would expect. Taking in once more that the focus was definitely not on you- you were there and then you just weren't, with nothing but a six meter drop between the bridge and the underpass. 

You let out and easier breath feeling cool all over again. You'd probably have nightmares about that moment. Who wouldn't? You took in a long and calming breath through your snoot, without the confusion of all the bustling reporters. Nat had been over there moments ago your nose told you, there was blood- her blood. Your jaw clenched. They had shot her. 

You couldn't poke your head from under the bridge or you would be seen. Cap has fallen straight through that bus. You flinched. There was a third guy, the asshat who stole your spot in the group, he smelt like aftershave and bars, he seemed a ladies man, not just that, he smelt of gunpowder, had he been firing a gun? Better yet, was he a soldier? 

You must had looked like bambi discerning threats and trying to find your mother, with your twitching nose. There was something strong, something close, machine oil, and earthy tone, manly, no food smells, no aftershaves, it was unaltered- it was kind of nice, familiar- spicy- save for something quite reminiscent of Banner, this man spent time in a lab. Did this person even eat? There were no real food scents. Eh, you think they may want to shower, it was so strong and yet no one was here.

"What are you doing here?" It was a gruff, restrained voice, it had come from just behind you. There was a quick glint of metal. 

You stiffened. Was he even human? He had been so silent, you had no idea how he snuck up on you like that, it was impressive, but mostly terrifying. The shine of metal had been a small blade, one he now touched to your throat from behind. 

Is this what Cap and Nat did for a living? Part of you was kind of exhilarated, this is how adventures were born in books. The only thing that knife would truly do to you was give away who you were- and you couldn't have that. You would not become a liability to the rest of the avengers.

“I am n-nobody, I-I was only curious,” you showed your hands as best you could while holding the ‘lead’ weight to you, careful not to drop it as that would also prove you were a different type of human.

It wasn't likely that you were ‘nobody’. You had jumped from a bridge his men would only abseil down. “What's in the box?” He grunted, pulling at your collar with force, leading you to him until he was breathing down your neck. 

God- he was close. He shouldn't smell good to you considering your position, his scent was deep and dark, and you were allured but it. Nat really had you reading quite a lot of Romance lately. “-nothing,” you grimaced at your own meek voice. If he worked for those who split you up- what would he do to you if he found out you were partly an avenger?

And image of your own body, stuffed and mounted on a wall flashed in your mind, only then did it occur to you that you had brought your most precious items with you- what would they do with them? What  _ could _ they do with them? Your chains jingled as your hands jittered nervously.

There was a burning, malevolent feeling at your back that you had entered a boss battle you weren't high enough level for. Natasha and Steve were right to leave you, you weren't ready for this.

The man looked to your wrist and then to the black box you had tucked under your arm. It could only be important if you had it cuffed to you. “Drop it.” He commanded, his mouth close to your ear.

What could be worse? Him finding out you had super healing or duper strength? The options were there, but the wafting mingle of Roger’s and Romanoff’s blood made the decision for you. If this man had anything to do with their harm- you gritted your teeth, he wasn't about to order you around. 

You threw your head back as he had dared to come close enough to smell the shampoo you had used, that was stolen from a hotel. Your reverse head-butt knocked him on the jaw and he loosened his grip in surprise, the knife also slipping from his hand but skimmed your neck as it fell to the ground.

You followed up with an elbow jab, not caring about your shallow neck wound, he stumbled backward and you were free- you whirled around to finally face your assailant. You saw a murky grey storm staring back at you, his eyes were cold and his brows sat low in a deep scowl, his brown hair was about shoulder length and wild, and he had an untamed scruff on his face. He might have been taller than Cap but not by much and just as well built with a chromed metal arm. 

You swallowed. He felt dangerous- and it was exciting. You really had been reading  _ way  _ too much romance. You felt an itch at the back of your head, one you couldn't scratch as his was beneath the skull, a niggle, did you know this man from somewhere?

“Who are you?” He looked to have been taken off guard by your appearance. He was walking towards you, closing the distance once more.

You didn't know what would happen when the distance was gained back. “-I'm no one.” You insisted once more.

“What is your connection to Steve Rogers?” He demanded though his voice was emotionless.

Your eyes narrowed, he was portraying the side he was on and it was not your own.

“I asked-” he started.

“Were you the one who tossed Steve through that bus over there?” You interrupted quietly, a shadow cast over your face. You no longer cared who he was- or what he looked like.

His eyes hardened on you, who just confirmed allegiance with his mission target. Which made you perfect for one thing- bait. He stormed closer his intent clear as yet another blade danced in his less-metallic fingers.

A smile pulled at your lips as if you had thought of the most amusing thing. “You asked me what's in the box? You tell me- here, catch~” the smirk grew further, and something disturbing shone in your eye. You piffed the two tonnes of ‘lead’ towards his chest.

Your heart stuttered. The nameless man on the receiving end of Stark’s thrown restraint, stumbled not anticipating how heavy it would be, lost his second dagger, but with a few clicked gear changes in his arm and some effort, caught the black box. You should have been scared, you should have just run, instead, your grin grew further. Finally, something you could hit,  _ hard _ , someone you can blame for all this.

Before you could perform any punches though the man threw the weight to the ground shattering some asphalt, caught the chain on the way through and pulled you to him. He knew what he was dealing with now, he had been briefed on a girl with superhuman strength and senses. You were to be brought in. He pulled you through to his fist that aimed for your gut.

You saw the fist coming and knocked it away, your bodies collided for a moment, your head on his chest, before you put all your force into pushing him back.

He willingly stepped backwards, and you ensued a flurry of blows that were untrained, and were created in anger and bloodlust. The man in black didn't need to defend, he simply slipped out of the way with each badly aimed fist or kick.

“Did you shoot Natasha Romanoff?” You growled, smelling the gunpowder on him. Your anger was fuelled further, still you couldn't land a damn hit.

“Who?” He scowled. The man clad in black turned the tides, finally deciding to deflect your blows, making openings for himself to return fire.

“The scarlet haired assassin,” You were beginning to realise how out matched you were but only vaguely, your thoughts were clouded by a want to end your opponent's life. “Did you shoot her?” You were reminded of your first session training with Natasha, you were scrambling on the defence and being beat backwards towards the wall of the underpass. Your ability to guard simply wasn't quick enough as the man landed blows to your torso and face. Your back then did hit the wall, trapping you from stepping backwards anymore.

“She got in the way of me and the target,” his silvery arm wound up, you shifted just in the time of impact, his metal fist exploding part of the cement wall behind you.

Your blood ran hot. Steve was his  _ target _ ? The great Natasha Romanoff was shot because she simply ‘got in the way’? What if they were dead? Your hands felt warm. The nameless man aimed another fist for your face- this one you caught. You pulled his fist through and pivoted away from you wall, kneeing him in the gut before pushing his hunched form into the now taught chain, and onto to the ground. 

You were then ontop of him, you were savage, he tried in vein to fend you off. He didn't even know Natasha's name before taking fire. You'll kill him. You wanted to kill him. You wanted him to feel every inch of pain you felt facing the prospect of a Rogers-less, Nat-less world. Steve. You froze halting your blows. 

You had lived this moment before, back at the cafe where you met Captain America.. you didn't want this. You didn't want to be  _ this. _ You still had a grasp on the front of the man’s uniform and a fist raised. A clouded bruise was already forming on his cheek, you could imagine looking about the same. 

You ran over his appearance once more. Those grey eyes, you've met them before, you know it.

The man beneath you noticed your hesitation, but found himself at a lost with what to do. The smile on your face had died and his expression too had quelled. His brow furrowed showing real emotion for the first time. “Who the hell are you?” It wasn't a demand, it was an honest question, one he seemed to care about.

“Don't follow me,” it came out sadder than you expected, “y-you understand what will happen if you do.” It had been a fluke you got him to the ground in the first place, one you would end him with if it ever happened again. You didn't want to harm him any further, you wanted to make Steve proud, because you would see him again, you had to. You raise yourself up, pulling your weight with you, you could still catch the scent of apple pie and deodorant. You were going to help them wherever they were.

The soldier was in a daze, something about you made his thoughts stutter, why couldn't he do what he was supposed to? His eyes flickered to one of his fallen knives as you dared to turn from him to start down the car-less highway.

You heard something cutting through the air towards you, you leaned to the side and let the knife fly past. 

Hawkeye once had thought it would be fun to have you dodge his dummy arrows. They still hurt. But you learned. You glowered back at him as he was still on the ground. Had this happened before with the throwing knife? You had the strangest moment of déjà vu.

He didn't seem composed as before. He looked to be wrestling with himself over something. He knew not to ask questions so why was his mind so full of them looking at you? He was stuck between two notions, bringing you back to headquarters like he should, and drilling you for more information just who Steve Rogers was to him- why did he want to follow you as he found himself doing?

As you continued to follow your nose toward the source you could hear angry clumping feet behind you, he was storming after you. “D-don't follow me,” you tried to growl, but felt a lack of malice in his movements.

He was in full dark armour with a series of straps imitating old military design, it showed off his one chrome arm, it was quite fitting on him, somehow dangerously attractive. -and with that you're never reading a romance ever again.

He wasn't listening, "Who is Steve Rogers?" He demanded.

You sniffed around, sticking close to the wall running alongside the highway so maybe you wouldn't be caught by the photographers, even then what were they going to do? It wasn't like you were the one they were looking for. 

"-A friend, one of the greatest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." Not that you'd tell him to his face, you were surprised you had even said it to begin with. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. "Suppose you wouldn't have many friends," you quipped back at your inquisitive, murderous follower. "Would you get lost? You're going to give me away!" You sped up but he matched you step for step.

Why were you taking him so lightly? And why was he allowing it? Rogers was a friend? A good man? But he was the hero here, his work was a 'gift to humanity'. Why was he following you again? 

With your back to him now, he could see it. Was it a weapon? A bomb? “What is in the bag?" He asked low. 

At the mention of your bag you paused mid step and without turning, “Ask me that again- and I will not hold back,” your mouth was full of venom. You spun to look at him and he was much closer than you expected. “One of us will die and I don't care which of us survives.” The contents of your back would only part from your cold dead hands. 

You showed your teeth slightly and caught his eyes with your own. You had made the threat but you were the one that felt trapped there. You were a nose length away from him- if he just bent down. Your breath hitched. What were you thinking? You spun around and took off faster than before.

His lips pressed together to make a firm line, he hadn't even flinched. He wasn't programmed to feel fear, your threat only made him more curious about the bag. "Why do you not have shoes on?" Why was he asking? That was of no use to him. It was odd, it bothered him.

"Rather it that way." You stepped on glass but you didn't let it phase you.

"Stop. You just stood on glass." He had an almost robotic way of speaking. Yes you stood on glass, it didn't matter and it had nothing to do with his mission. He was becoming infuriated in himself, he was two minds about everything.

"No I didn't." You sighed before breathing in through your nose once more and deciding to take a right.

"Your foot, it's bleeding." It was more of an observation than any exclamation.

"Good to know, I wonder, were you so concerned when you cut my neck?" You pointed to the drying blood.

He figured it was just a nick, it hasn't even bled that much. You were right, perhaps he has overstayed? he should report back to be wiped. Yet his feet still willed to follow you.

Hmm, you sniffed a while longer, you were coming in close. You came to a short tunnel that blocked out all of the midday's sun. Yeah, there was apple pie, that sexy women's deodorant entwined with copper and the lady's man cologne, there was something else a very overpowering something else. You gave a small gasp. You thought he was dead, or was it just an associate? Interesting.

“What is it?" The winter soldier noticed your small intake of breath.

"-Not for you to know." You said bluntly, You tracked a little longer into the darkness until you came to a hole that had been roughly laser cut in the ground. It was deep. It smelt like it met with the sewer. Damn it, you wouldn't be able to track in there the other smells would overpower everything. Tired from running you sunk to the ground, coming to sit in front of the hole just to glare at its entire existence, you place the box next to you. They must have escaped their captors at least, that was the main thing. They had only just been here but they felt a world away.

"What are you doing now?" The gruff of his voice sounded almost inquisitive.

Did he have to question everything? It was easier when he was trying to kill you. "I'm giving up." You sighed.

There was this urge to be around you, to sit beside you at the hole in the ground.

"-Hey, you, what are you doing down here?" There was a sudden bright torch in your face, his voice was authoritative, his scent had the Barton effect of trying to mask himself. 

You knew that smell, it had been on Nat and Cap frequently after missions. This man was Shield. You didn't trust him. Your heart pumped a little faster, what would they do to you? How much did they know? Would they avenge the nose you broke before. Worse yet. Were they amongst the pack you dishonored before when you escaped the tower? You only then realised he was addressing your follower. How had you come to trust your strange follower over these men?

The man with the cyber arm didn't speak, he held a cold face in response.

Those were supposed to be his men- weren't they?

Two other faceless men came up beside the owner of the torch. "You were suppose to report back to HQ." 

Guess your follower didn't rank very high in pecking order, you expected more from someone in such a unique uniform. Your eyes flitter to the man you almost killed, they way they spoke to him- you didn't know why, but it bothered you.

"Who is this one?" The Shield operative spoke harshly, was that a tinge of German to the accent?

They must not have been the ones who raided Avenger’s tower if they didn't remember you. That can only be good news.

The soldier fought with himself at that. He knew he had to answer, but he didn't want to. His expression retained a scowl of defiance, as he gave them what they wanted. "I found her by the bridge and followed her here," he reported like the good soldier he was.

Well. Your cover was blown. You slowly straightened up from your spot in front of the deep hole, gripping your fist tightly.

"Get your ass back to HQ and we'll deal with this one, won't we boys?"

There was a disgusting pulling your stomach at that. You felt there was a sexual connotation there. You suddenly disliked the way they were looking at you even more, you felt like a dirty great hunk of steak in the eye of a tiger. You adjusted your glasses hating to think of the things running through the minds of these men. A sneer pulled your mouth, you wouldn't let them get away with it.

Your follower looked at you with stormy eyes then back at his comrades. Something didn't feel right about leave a dame to three wolves. He couldn't lift a finger to change the fact. He just couldn't.

"What are you doing? Get going!" Said the third, it was never good when that soldier hesitated.

They spoke to him like a dog, something felt off. You felt like you didn't want him to go back either, if they treated him like this in public, what about behind the scenes?

With that the cyber armed man walked away slowly.

You gritted your teeth, you don't know why you hated to see him leave in the first place. Then you were left with three mere humans, ones that went uninformed of your cursed superpowers. Ones standing in the way of Steve and Romanoff. 

With a shaky breath, you were in control. You wouldn't kill them, they were evil disgusting men, but they all had mothers, they had people that would miss them. Doesn't mean, you were just going to let them go like you did before. No, you wouldn't kill them, just hurt them, really, really bad. Enough to spend a very long amount of time with their family in wheelchairs. A smile pinched your cheeks. Yes- really, really bad.

“It's okay love- we ain't gonna hurt you,” the first one took steps forward.

This was something you doubted highly. When he was about five meters in range you took your black chain in hand, and whipped it out, sending the black weight skidding across the ground. Like a deadly game of jump over the rope, in which the man didn't know the rules of because he failed to react in time and the force of two tonnes in motion hit him in the shins. 

The screams were blood curdling as the shield agent was now sprawled on the ground.

Your grin got wider still, two men were left, those who had just seen a comrade lose a leg below the knee without you trying. “Who's next?”

The two had un-holstered their guns in shaking hands. “Soldier!” One of them screamed, “Winter Soldier!” 

Bullets, you couldn't dodge those, but they were already scared, you knew terror better than anyone. You walk menacingly towards them, you could bluff invulnerability? You brought up your weight once more. 

Your bluff didn't pay off as the gun fire lit up the darkened tunnel in flashes. You ducked behind the weight like a tiny shield, if you scrunched you could get your head and heart covered. You cried out. You took a bullet to your shoulder, two to the leg and to the side before you reached them at a staggered run.

You kicked one’s legs out from underneath him, tossing your weight on a foot, freeing your hands before treating the other with a gut punch that was sure to rupture something. There was a chorus of screams- which meant none were dead.

You felt weak. Blood was seeping most from your stomach, wobble towards the end of the tunnel. You had bitten off way more than you can chew coming here armed with only a little black box. Where do you go from here? You were covered in crimson, that would only cause attention. Perhaps you could find a nice underpass to sleep it off in. Or even here could be nice enough. You were now on the verge of collapse.

You sagged. Waiting for you at the end of the tunnel was the soldier in black, you couldn't fight him off now. You could barely keep your eyes open. “Damn it!”

“Language,” the soldier tutted without expecting to. He frowned at himself.

You sunk, falling forwards into him, head resting on his shoulder in defeat. “-Couldn't do your own dirty work,” you were too tired to growl. 

“I'm sorry.” Something was wrong with him to say that. He needed to report back to Hq. He dipped, picking you up like a blushing bride, walking with the chain in his metal hand so the weight could slide behind.

In the fairytales this is the part where the prince gallops away with you, taking you to safety and not to the pits of hell. What the crap happened to your adventure story? You felt a little robbed- and delirious. 

Had you been here before? This guy had you chasing your own mind around like a swirling toilet bowl. 

You had messed this one up big time, you ran headlong into a situation you were in no way ready for and they would only use you against Steve and the others, in one way or another. You weren't even strong enough to protect what's on your back. You hid your face and pretended like you weren't crying.

Did he really have to take you back? Not only had you been on their wanted list but you had just taken out three soldiers. It wasn't negotiable.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrites galore  
> Meeting Mr. Barnes for the first time :3
> 
> thank you all for the 75 kudos c,:  
> and thank you reading c:


	9. Floating Graveyard

 

Regardless of what you wanted, your eyes lingered on the soldier with the unruly brown hair in the corner of the room. You remembered the way your body felt when he picked you up and held you in his arms. It had only been a short distance from the end of the tunnel to his ride, but your mind played it over for an eternity.

You felt drugged around him, hot under the collar and you had trembled when you were sat next to him in the car. You were weak from blood, you could only be delirious. You had rested your head on his arm and he sat staring forwards pretending you weren't there. There was no way of knowing where you'd end up with the blacked out windows.

And hours later- your stomach healing, your blood pressure regaining, you still had that disgusting urge to have him near you. To reenacted that moment of being held by him. You hated it and you hated him but most of all- you hated Tony Stark for supplying the enemy with the means to tie you up like a burrito in your own chains.

“I said where were you ten years ago!” He screamed again but you were only looking at his companion in the eyeliner.

The man yelling at you was someone you once found kind of attractive when you'd seen him around the tower, he'd scarcely been there but you'd spoken once or twice, enough for you to have said one or two sentences. Brock Rumlow with his unshaven face, dark hair, straight brows and distinct browbone. 

You smiled through eerie pink teeth. “I heard you the first hundred times,” it didn't make a difference. You had no idea, of course an undercover agency would only be distrusting, they assumed everyone was like themselves. You were in a room devoid of colour, everything was a steel grey, including the table in front of you and the stool you sat upon. You could tell the mirror over there was a one way, some monster was watching in the shadows.

“Then we haven't gone deep enough have we?” He spoke through gritted teeth. He had an array of different implements, some already covered in blood.

You don't  think you own a piece of body that didn't hurt already, but you did not let yourself think that it couldn't get worse- because every time you did, it did. A mix a sweat and blood permeated the air. You struggled at the chains once more. You weren't going anywhere.

You already assumed what was to happen as Rumlow stepped behind your back where your hands were strapped to you. They had grown back already- your fingernails.

Your heart picked up. “I don't know anything,” you looked desperately to the soldier in the corner of the room who was still only surveying, as if he would ever do anything for you. Why do they care what you unknowingly did ten years ago? It could only be a front for something else, who they really want is Steve. “Please! You’re wasting your time! Steve Rogers won't come for me, he isn't that stupid!” You made an exhausted plea.

The man with grey lingering eyes shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Rogers.

You could feel the chuckle from Rumlow at this. “You still think we are trying to lure ‘Captain America’ out,” you were inching your bloodied fingers away, so he had to seize your hand, pulling your arm in a way it probably shouldn't bend restricted in chains.

You squeezed your eyes shut- please, just let it be over.

Your nail weren't quite long enough, so he had to dig with his sharp pliers to get and anchor for them the hold onto.

You gritted your teeth, you didn't want to scream.

And with enough force, drawing it out slow, he took the nail from your pointer on your right hand. Skin tearing all over again.

You cried out despite what pitiful pride you had, your throat was already raw at this point. Agony shot all the way up your hand, an angry fire was stoked in your stomach.

“He has no idea you're here, hell, you didn't even let them know you were still in New York did you?” He dug at your thumb.

Hot tears spilled down your face, no, he had to be lying. Some part of you was hanging on the hope of Steve coming to get you. Without that hope- you would be nothing. Give a yell as you are parted with your thumbnail, exhausted, your head lolled forward.

“We want him and his band of idiots as far from us a possible, while we complete the final stages of our mission.” He pulled at your pinky- and to his disappointment you made no sound. He rolled his eyes, had you passed out- again? 

He checked your face, your oily, sweaty hair had fallen over your eyes. The man with the army cut was disappointed so see that you were in fact -smiling. It meant he wasn't doing his job properly. “Finally cracked ______?”

You were deliriously tired, you hurt  _ everywhere _ , but a rupture of laughter hit your surface. You were hopeless. They had your backpack. You were going to die here. The world would end. You couldn't stop laughing, tears started to stream down your face and you weren't able to open your eyes.

“What's so funny?” he growled viciously, he grabbed as your next finger and made no time throwing your next nail to the floor.

You screamed a little, before returning to convulsive laughter. “I'm going to kill you,” you'd wipe your tears but your hands were still strapped back there.

He was behind you, so you had no way of knowing if he looked unnerved or not.

“This- what you're doing to me, will seem like a holiday in comparison to the things I'll do when I get a hold of you,” you grinned, your head lulling to the side so you could see the soldier supervising, “oh, Sergeant, the things I'll do to you too,” you growled low, you had an urge to bite him.

The man clad in black uniform flinched at that. “Sergeant?” He asked no one quietly.

Rumlow still hadn't beat the insolence out of you? If you were to be any kind of soldier for them, you had to be brought back to zero. Complete factory reset. They needed to know your complete past to wipe it clean. He clenched his jaw. You were stubborn he'd give you that. 

He pulled at your arm to shift it around the front.

You called out in anguish as your shoulder popped out of its socket only for your body to return it there with a disgusting cracking sound. Your grin return with your assortment of missing teeth. “A hammer? That's not remotely creative Brock.” You would start by peeling his eyelids from his face so that every waking moment would be complete agony before he dies. Naturally, you didn't want to give the imagination-less ideas.

He spread your peeling fingers out before raising the hammer above his head. “Laugh again bitch,” he smile.

You looked him in the eye and you promised again, “I will kill you.” Closed your eyes ready for the pain- but it never came. Was he teasing you out? Lulling you into a false sense of security before destroying it? Your eyes flickered open regardless.

You were then staring into those grey eyes of the man with the metallic arm. He looked as bewildered as you were that he was there. His hand intercepted Brock’s wrist with the hammer in it.

“Stand down Soldier,” Rumlow commanded narrowing his eyes. This was very out of the ordinary, perhaps it was all this business with Rogers?

“She has had enough,” he spoke in a gruff, low tone.

The shield agent tried and failed not to look alarmed. “Report to the lab Soldier.” He ordered.

The soldier didn't move, becoming a large statue, gripping Brock’s wrist harshly. He stood only looking at you.

You let yourself hope for a moment, let yourself imagine him carrying you out of here on blades of glory- explosions setting off in the background. Such a hope slowly died.

There was a thundering sound approaching the door from the outside as the tension rose in here. Without a moment's notice the metal entrance way gave in to a multitude of soldiers, clad head to toe in black. You had tangled with a few of these soldiers before. “We have been sent to take you to the laboratory soldier,” one of the nameless many called out his orders.

With a great amount of disdain, the gunmetal eyed soldier looked to you and released Rumlow of his grip. He ended his time with you with a sad longing stare.

“Good boy,” Brock smirked, having won out in the end.

You turned a scowl on the man. “He is not a dog, you piece of shit!” You struggled in your chains awkwardly, one hand in front and the other behind.

With that Rumlow called to the soldier, ignoring your futile attempts at escape. “how do you know her?”

He lingered on you longer. “I don't.” He stated going with the men.

“Project insight goes online in six hours,” one of the faceless men informed.

“I know just how to fill in the time until then,” the monster smirked towards you. All alone, just the two of you, Rumlow asked you, retrieving his hammer. “How do you know the winter soldier? -how do you know Bucky Barnes?”

You knew those eyes- from the museum, he was Steve's best friend. How had he ended up here and like -that? What had they made him into? The idea made you seeth further. You looked straight ahead. “I don't.” You replied coldly and waiting for the agony to ensue.

 

* * *

 

 

The cold- it was annoying. Why couldn't you sleep through it? You didn't care anymore, you felt empty. You'd tasted so much blood already that it just tasted like saliva. Or had your tongue still not grown back?

Reluctantly, you opened your heavy, sunken eyes. The soles of your feet were submerged in water. The liquid hadn't been there when you fell asleep, or was it that you passed out? The last hours of your life were hard to place.

You noticed that the water was seeping in from underneath the door. The scent of sea water invaded your nose. Urgency took over your mind and you were now very much awake. Something was wrong, very very wrong. You shifted in your chains to the point of the chair slipping and crashing to the floor, slamming you on your side. The water was rising, coming up to the side of your nose as you struggled. “Steve!” You cried in panic, struggling on the ground. You wanted your friends to rush in and save you. But it was useless- he wasn't here, he was probably miles away and you were all alone. You gave a frustrated yell, tears mixing with salt water.

Damn it! Why did you keep crying! It made no difference. You gritted your teeth. You had to get out, the water wasn't stopping. This is what it felt like to be a magician in a tank of water? You didn't like it. You had to do this yourself, no one was out there to help you. You gritted your teeth and flopped on the ground tugging at your own shoulder. You bent like a broken puppet, until, there was a sound like a snapping twig and you shoulder was dislocated, followed by the next. The water now covered your nose so you worked to stand.

With your arms in an unnatural positions, the chains loosened. You jumped up and down, splashing in the shin high water. The chains came to pool around you and you were free of them. Your shouldered popped strangely back into place and you were together again like some foul zombie. Your eyes narrowed, whoever was on the other side of that door had hell to pay.

You moved to the exit, the two tonne weight following obediently behind having sat in the corner of the room with no one able to lift it but you and the soldier. Without time to care for the door- you kicked it from its hinges, water pooling in to the middle of your thigh.

You could see more of the compound now, it too was mostly metallic- from what you could tell, with the white water rushing as it was. You weren't on ground floor, you were much heightened above it in fact. Where you were overlooked a factory warehouse floor, that was now a deep and dark pool, the source of the water that had completely filled the lower levels, was coming from a split the ceiling. 

Some sort of spacecraft looking vehicle crashed straight through. Assuming that really was seawater- the compound was built underneath the sea and it was filling up from the puncture, the sound alone was comparable to ten jackhammers.

You had to move quickly if you wanted to escape with your life, even quicker if you wanted to escape with you backpack. You gathered up your chain and weight, ignoring your body’s pained protests, you start trudging through the sea spray. Before, they had mentioned a lab, if you were to store artefacts that's where you'd keep them.

You tried sniffing for chemicals and disinfectant, it was hard with all the salty water crashing down around you. It was like wading through a waterfall. You can do this! You  _ had  _ to do this. You couldn't leave them for Shield to play with. 

You had to keep wiping the salt water from your eyes to see, you let out a short scream when you witnessed your first dead body. It was a middle aged man, he was in agent’s uniform and was bloated from drowning, pale but freshly downed. You heart ran in your throat edging around it. 

The water had hit belly button as you came to a section of the floor you were on that looked much like a laboratory, the main factor was the white wash rather than the steel. There were more dead here.

Bodies in lab coats were scattered about, most floating, it was a sickening sight. But you saw him- the one who was upright, the one gathering up a black bag. Your eyes slitted. 

He looked up towards you like a deer in the headlights as you had started wading, splashing towards him.

You had blood lust in your fiery eyes. You had been through too much recently, even you didn't know what you were going to do when you got your hands on him- but it wasn't going to be good.  _ Safe and sound. _

There was a crashing sound that moved the ground you stood upon, and shook waves through the water. A wall of water came down upon you as your eyes were solely on the Stark-pack. You were taken off guard now full submerged in water, most of the air completely gone from the world, few lights still persisting to light the depths. The bodies surrounding looked even more disturbing in weightless motion. Your eyes relocated your bag.

The scientist was struggling with it still in tow. As you swam closer, you realised your weight was trapped what was once a wall. You tugged. The bag was in sight. It was just out of reach. You became frantic, there was a few centimeters of air on the ceiling- you pulled at the chain. It wasn't long enough. You screamed for your heroes, but no one would come. You were drowning in a floating graveyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHe's a short chapter... but really who want's more detail when it comes to torture? /:  
> I really put you through the ringer in this one sorry D:  
> thank you for reading~ and the 85 kudos of love~~  
> I can't promise rainbows next chapter- but after a storm there is always one :3


	10. Coming home

You pulled yourself, shaking onto the embankment. You choked on salt water, your esophagus and nasal passage completely on fire. You cried out, curling in on yourself, cradling your right hand to you, holding your black pack close. 

There was no way of getting out of your shackles -with your hand intact. You couldn't bare to look. You now only had three fingers on your right hand starting at what was suppose to be the middle, it was a messy ripped wound. 

Worse, you had to inflict it on yourself. Blood was still pulsing through the mangled appendage and a handful of bones greeted you at the surface. The view alone was enough to make you want to throw up, you had never felt desperation like that before, enough to tear apart your own hand.

You couldn't do anything for the scientist, he couldn't hold his breath as long as you. The air was soon knocked out of him and he released your bag. You wondered if you ever truly wanted to help in the first place. You didn't want him dead, not really. However if you ever came across Rumlow..

You brought yourself to a staggering stand. Screw all of this- you were going home, you were going to kick out anyone dared be there and completely ‘home alone’ it until the Avengers came back. Your bag half on your back, your hand still cradled. 

You were weak, hurt, sick, sad, tired, your hand hurt like all fuckery… but really, you were never leaving that tower when you got to it. You'd find some other way to help the avengers, like becoming an IT guy or something. You were done with this hero shit.

As you limped around the beach you took in the aftermath of whatever had happened there. Remanence of ‘space ships’ could still be seen floating in the bay. To your side was an amount of rough and trees, there was a building across the way, which you assumed was the same that lead underground and under the bay. You hadn't made it out that way, but dodged through the ship’s wreckage through the hole in the roof.

The endless watery depths echoed in your mind. Yeah, never leaving the tower.  Ever, ever again. Following the bank along towards the city before you saw two figured in the distance. You felt weaker in your knees, it was the last thing you expected. -Steve. Your Steve. Your Captain. You felt tears of relief bubble to the surface. But he wasn't moving. You heart caught. 

You didn't care for your useless body, you shambled quicker. There was another figure, he looked to be as drenched as Steve, he had pulled your Friend out of the water. Your body acted strangely on recognition. Your heart both stuttered and heated with anger. Bucky watched you in there, watched you be carved and pulled apart. He watched you be hollowed out and left you to drown. He was leaving Steve in a slump on the shore, coming towards you.

The Winter Soldier didn't know who he was any more. Was he a weapon? Was his work destroying the world instead of being its gift? Why did he kill? Did he like it? Why had he saved his own target? 'Cause I'm with you 'till the end of the line'? Pictures flashed in his mind, of dancing, of guns and tanks, of a friend. Of killing, missions, freezing, chairs of pain. There were voices in his head- and he wasn't sure all of them were his.

You felt the sand between your toes as you closed space, you weren't very capable of anything but you were sure you could at least harm him. You came to slow in front of him, your stomach pulling you away from malice. He looked a little worse for wear no not in comparison to your tortured soul. His dark-brown, shoulder-length hair was slick from the water that dripped from him. He saved Steve, he held Rumlow back, but brought you to that hell hole, which side was he on?

He said nothing when he noticed those bare feet in the sand. You were free of restraint, sopping wet, your bloodied hand smeared and seeped into the wet of your floral shirt creating a sadistic red tie-dye.

You weren't anticipating on Bucky getting so close. Neither were you ready for him to place a dripping, cold, silvery hand on your cheek. A caress, not a punch. His eyes seemed to be lost in their own storm. 

Your heart shuttered to life again, where you were feeling hollow from torture and missing fingers- was filled warmth. It was so sudden, it wasn't right.

Who was he? A soldier of Hydra or America? He had thought it was the same thing at one point. Was he a soldier at all? And who were you? What did he want from you? You were a friend of his target, a friend of Steve's. You had attacked his people, amputated a leg from Hydra's body, left them bloodied. 

Did he know you? His hand was on your face but- he felt nothing. No cold, no warmth. Nothing. It was easier this way, to feel nothing. He embraced it, wanted it to go back the way it was- when there was only the mission.

His hand had been soft and tender on your cheek, you wanted to lean into it, to give up hatred, to relax and give in to everything, so you had no idea what had happened when your head suddenly faced the other way.

You felt something in the back of your head give a grotesque snap, your the muscles in your neck came to wrap around your esophagus. You couldn't breath. Hell, you couldn't feel your body. You landed like a broken doll in the dirt. All you could see was the Winter Soldier walking away as your urge to breath was being obstructed by your sudden loss of contact with your body. 

The soldier had broken your neck.

Who was he? He didn't even know, he wanted something, perhaps he did want to feel, he had wanted to feel something, the same rush he used to feel when killing. He didn't feel it, instead in its place was remorse. What was wrong with him? What had he done? Give one last look at your broken form he realised -he was a monster.

Your eyes stared absently, you weren't dead, you were still in here. Oh god! You were still in here! What if they buried you? What if you never moved again? You thought death by broken neck was an instantaneous affair, you had things to do, you had thing to protect and now- you had people to also protect.

Your body felt useless, you felt nothing, not the wet, the cold, the pain. It was just you in your own mind. Your body was still kind of trying to save you. You wanted to scream. 

You had ran your entire life and for what? All that worry and fear only to end up like this. The faces of the Avengers came into your mind. Steve was the epitome of good, who would notice the sadness in his eyes if not you? Tony was probably a better man than you often gave him credit for, who would he bother now? Clint, your saviour, your watcher, you had wanted to meet his secret family, see Sebastian again. And there was so much for him and Romanoff to teach you, you wanted to peel back Natasha’s facades. You wanted to know her. Would there be another to understand Banner as you did? You wanted to know what would happen to him and Nat. 

You were laying there inches from death deliriously picturing a wedding cake with a little green groom on top. It was like a switch was flicked, and you faced forwards once more. Air rushed to your lungs. You felt something, you felt everything. You felt sick. Your stomach came back to you. 

That was the single most horrid feeling in your life. It felt like death. You unceremoniously threw up into the sand. Your body buzzed as blood rushed in a frenzy and you greedily took in as much air as you could, you never thought you would again. The world around you was amplified.

You felt tears run down your face and you whimpered and sniffed like a child. Who the fuck was that guy to you? Why did you let down your guard like that? And why did he kill you? What had you done to him for him to want to do that? It didn't matter, nothing did. Cap was beside you and he was unconscious. 

You walked on unsteady legs towards him. "Steve!" You shook him a couple of times. He wasn't there, you needed him to be there. You felt for a pulse and it was there beating steadily away. You choked on a sob. You'd gone through hell, you needed your Steve. 

That bastard metal armed bastard- he had bludgeoned your Captain's face. Was that a bullet wound? His chest- it was bleeding and his ...upper behind thigh (butt cheek)- he had to get to a hospital, he had to get to Avengers’ tower. 

You would have to be strong for him. You bent down and picked up the large super soldier from the ground, he was nothing in comparison the restraints you once had on you. Your hand was a useless stump at the end of your arm as you held him. His head lulled backwards. You had no way of supporting it, he was just too tall. This would have to do. 

You walked him through the streets of New York on shaky legs, in a dream like state, your mind was broken, not caring who saw or what they thought. You took back alleys and shortcuts making it quicker than any car in this traffic. You were going home. Finally.

 

* * *

 

 

You hadn't seen Avengers’ tower in a while. The humongous blue A looked like a giant, shining beacon to you- so tall and bright you would ever lose your way to it again. "Jarvis-" your voice trembled 

"We've been expecting you miss _______,"

That was the happiest thing you have ever heard, what had happened while you were gone? There was a rush when you got into the tower. They were all waiting there for you, you felt like you were coming home after years but it had only been a short affair in hindsight. Stark had returned, he was waiting in the lobby for you, had they been tipped off? 

Tony’s pulled strangely, you were covered in rouge. You were still wet and you smelt like the inner sanctum of hell. -Looked like it too. Where does he even begin to ask if you're okay?

Barton came skidding in, Banner was prepping a bay for Rogers, Romanoff was still out. But everyone was back in New York. 

You felt like crying, when you were lying in the sand and strapped to that stool you didn't think you would see any of these faces again, even Stark’s image was a godsend. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop whatever meltdown was brewing. 

"Come this way," Bruce lead you, he had a mournful look on his face. You must have looked awful, his eyes flickered to your reforming hand. He cursed something under his breath.

You bit your lips from any tears to carry Cap just a little further and onto a gurney, you had just enough time to brush the hair from his eyes before he was whisked away. 

Your legs buckled and gave way moments later, your hands shook violently. You were alive. Were you alive? Or was this your last moments living out in your head? How could you know? You felt numb all over once more, you were empty. You were broken, shield broke you. There was a hand at your back -something you could feel.

Clint was rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder, he held a frown of worriment that showcased the lines on his forehead. He seemed to wear that look often around you, you wished he didn't have to worry so much but were thankful he did.

It made you cry harder, he didn't even know and he was just there? You swore you would never leave their side again. You were never leaving the tower again. You'd never let something separate you from them ever again, if agents came here ever again you would defend this castle with your life.

"Hey, a-are you okay?" Stark asked awkwardly from above. There he was, his beard all trim and perfect, his dark eyes actually held concern you didn't think him capable of.

You brought your knees to your chin to hide your face. That damn Tony, you never wanted to have him see you cry, your limp three fingers dangled out in front of you.

Tony instantly felt a bit sick. That was where his black cuff used to sit and you came into a situation where you ripped it from yourself. He never intended that.

"Your neck, your hand" there was still bruising on your throats and your hand wasn't bleeding any long but had left stains, you could hardly feel it, you could hardly feel anything. You were covered in mud and filth too, smelling of duck poop from and embankment. "What happened?" Barton cooed in his usual way.

You didn't think you could even say it, should you say it? You just came back from the dead, you literally did as Dracula had and he really was a monster, you'd been tortured beyond anything remotely human. "-I thought I was dead." Is all you could manage. You decided then and there, “I want to get stronger,” you choked. Never again did you want to get in that situation, you'd kill before you did.

 

Clint and Stark showed you to a hospital bed and tony made some excuse to leave so he no longer had to the mess created of your bludgeoned hand.

While you were in a daze one of Bruce’s medical assistants came in, wrapped your hand up like a mummy’s while it healed itself, changed you into pink pyjamas and shoved a nutrient filled drip into your arm. All the while you made Clint tell you about his time in Africa with his family through the door, apparently he was sort out by a nature reserve to defend against poachers and to tranquilize a sick lioness. In return, his family got to help nurse some young cubs. 

You wanted to hear something that felt real, something to help forget all that the past few days were.

You were relaxing back into your own skin once more, sitting amongst pillows and blankets, Clint had brought you an entire carton of milk and asked if you were okay about twelve times before you politely asked him to go the fuck to bed. You didn't really want him to go, you couldn't bare to be alone, but the dark circles around his eyes begged him to bed. 

According to what he knew, to uncover everything that Shield was hiding they had to perform an information dump on the internet to show that under the facade was really lurking Hydra, the rouge nazi science division everyone thought died in the forties. The ‘spaceships’ you had dodged swimming to the surface withheld an algorithm to take out anyone Hydra didn't like, at the news Barton had flown all night to get back to New York, but was too slow to join in the final battle. Knowing this, you reiterated for him to go the fuck to bed.

You almost had a hand by now, Banner kept sending people to throw supplements and food your way, it was the best he could do for you seeing as Steve couldn't quite put himself together such as you and himself could. You found yourself sitting on the hospital bed cocooned within a heated blanket convincing yourself that what was happening was really happening and wasn't some torture induce dream.

“Nat!” You cried, and felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes. You didn't let any spill, your were a pitiful enough sight was it was. You were still on edge, taking every moment to remind yourself that you weren't dead. You were here alive, so was she, it was okay.

The redhead had appeared in the doorway with a makeshift sling around her arm, you began the motion of standing to embrace her but she stayed you with a hand. "Hey, don't get all soft on me ______," she was all bravado, she pretended it didn't concern her if you were okay or not, but leaned down to you and gave you a one armed hug nevertheless. Yeah, her shoulder hurt- but there was time she didn't think she'd ever see you again herself. -Not that that mattered. Who was she kidding? You were getting under her skin and making yourself at home like a splinter. She got an eye full of your throat as she did. "You're neck, what the hell happened?" She let some concern slip. She would kick herself later for doing so, she then came to look at your mummified hand.

So it still looked that bad? "-Met Bucky Barnes," you subconsciously rubbed your throat before looking down. You still hadn't mentioned to anyone that he then proceeded to snap your neck but not before watching your torture session unfold.

Natasha’s face pulled, “I told you to go into deep cover,” she pretended as if it didn't affected her to see you in such a way. “-the things they did to that man..” she shivered, it reminded her too much of herself.

Were the same things he watched them do to you. “I wasn't going to leave you!” you folded your arms, gently as a shock of pain went all the way up your arm, and looked somewhere else to hide your watering eyes.

Her brows drew breaking her facade once more, she should have picked you up from the tower. Steve was wrong, you were in more danger alone, than if were them. “______,” she planted herself on the edge of your bed and stroke your now-dry hair.

You sniffed before your eyes fell onto another over her shoulder. You froze, eyes slitting. That was the guy they had traded you in for, the one from the bridge. He had that same kind of playboy facial-do as Tony wore, his complexion was dark and his skin was clear, his hairline was sharp with shaved sides, you were right when guessing he was a soldier, your sudden glare caught him off guard between a smile, that showcased a slight gap in his front teeth. The aftershave loomed over him like a gas. Why was this new person allowed in your hospital room?

"Play nice ______, this is Sam Wilson." Nat chuckled seeing the glare. You had given most of them that look upon meeting them hadn't you? That look of scrutiny. Guess you weren't one for new people still.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked in a deep voice, showing you a hand. He had dark, sly eyes, like a fox, something mischievous about him.

You scowled lifting up your three and a half hand of bandaged fingers, that certainly wasn't up for shaking.

There was a sharp intake of breath from the two of them.

“What did you do!?” Natasha reprimanded, knowing the only why that would have happened was from you pulling off the restraints. More importantly, what did the Winter Soldier do to you? She quietly gritted her teeth.

“Don't want to talk about it,” you said pointedly still eying Wilson.

"You'll have to excuse her, she takes a bit to warm up to people," came a third voice, poking his head in the door.

Was he talking about you like you were a cat or something? "I thought I told you to go the fuck to bed Barton." Your cold stare now on him and the dark circles around his eyes.

What happened to you handing out free hugs? "But I heard the helicopter and came to see Nat." Was he whining?

"She is right, you look tired Clint," Natasha stood, came to pat his arm. 

Barton kind of stormed off shortly after grumbling about something along the lines of 'no respect'.

 

"What war did you fight in?" 

The sudden question took you very off guard, Natasha had stayed for as long as she could before the passed couple of days hit her and she trudged up to bed, leaving with your new found enemy, who had invited himself to what was Hawkeye’s usual hospital chair, while waiting on Steve.

"-never fought in a war -can only remember up until coupla years ago- who knows if I did?" The rest of the sentence you had meant for only yourself but you had said it out loud instead. You must have been tired, you were getting sloppy around strangers even with your nervous broken sentences. You had heard you were more likely to open up when you are tired, how interesting if it was true. You should warn Barton who liked to stay awake all the time of this fact.

Sam was looking at your hands. "It's just the shakes-" he had seen it in his support group many times, the on edge feeling of an incoming grenade at any moment. You spoke in broken sentences, you probably didn't like people all that much, you were capable in front of the others. You relied on them.

You hadn't even realised you were doing it, you patted you bag for a second  which was sitting next to you as a plush toy should in a hospital bed and then tried to hold you appendages still. Given you had died today, you think you're inclined to some shakes.

"And you keep on looking around like you expect something to pop out at you." He gave you a knowing look.

"-saying my life is a warzone?" You cocked your head to the side, and you were supposed to be the melodramatic writer of the pair. It would make sense if you were a soldier once, you could have been engineered this way like Steve was. You just didn't think you were old enough have seen any wars, your age was something that perplexed you greatly, who knows how long this body has been around and the things it's done?

"All I am saying is you can relax here, whatever you've got going on, it's over now." You had eyes that had seen far too much.

What a presumptuous thing to say? But suppose he was right, here in this tower- You were safer than anywhere else in the world. You took a deep calming breath, this guy was a little nosy, but he wasn't all bad. 

Before you could say a thing in return Banner stepped through the doors. "It's okay, he was already stabilized, but there were a couple of broken things- he is sleeping now." Bruce looked as tired as Barton.

You scrambled from the bed forgetting the drip and how tired you were, your legs were less than willing, reenacting bambi’s first steps. 

“Woah, slow down _____, he isn't going anyway, I need a look at that hand,” he came to support you and wheeled the drip closer.

“I need to see him Banner,” you spoke determined. 

Bruce gave a small smile, “okay,” he conceded there wasn't a lot you couldn't get him to do, but he imagine most of the others were the same, “but you have to tell me what happened to your hand on the way.”

You pressed your lips together nervously.

Sam followed the two of you along. You recounted on to them that you had seen the three Hydra crafts going down and Steve with them. When you dove into the water to pull him out you got snagged and pulled down by your weight, it was a miracle to you to find Steve already on the beach, there you ran into Bucky. None of which was true- on some level Bruce could tell that. But you weren't ready to talk about your days within that compound, to talk about it would mean it really happened. It would make them worry infinitely more than they should. That weight was now at the bottom of the bay along with your old fore finger and thumb.

“I should never have let Stark chain you like that,” Banner grimaced trailing you wheeling your drip, Tony had a way of talking him into things, leading him by his curiosity- he wanted to see what you would become, wanted to see you grow.

You could see Steve clad in white blankets, his hospital bed looked more official than yours had been. Looked as if he could be brought back to the operation theatre at anytime. “It's okay Bruce, I know you just want me to get stronger,” you spoke absently, eyes only on the blond.

“Do you know when he might wake up?” Sam asked, your talk of being restrained to a ball and chain completely going over his head and making him wary of you at the same time.

“Could be tonight, could be tomorrow,” Banner sighed. By all rights, Steve should have woken by now, it was almost as if he did not want to.

You walked closer to his bedside, his face wasn't peaceful as sleep should be, it was pained. “You did good Banner,” you looked up at his dark circled eyes. “Get some rest- I'll keep an eye on him.”

To Bruce, you looked exactly as exhausted as he felt, perhaps you shouldn't be the one watching him? But Banner couldn't take it away from you, you idolised Steve. “I'll leave it to you,” he nodded stationing your drip close by, giving Sam Wilson a polite smile before he turned away, heading to collapse in his room.

“I think I should also leave-” your newfound enemy thumbed over his shoulder, he had only wanted to see Steve’s wellbeing for peace of mind.

You looked up from Steve’s envy-inspiring eyelashes. “Wait!” You dashed your pride for a minute moment. “Thank you- for bringing them back to me,” you spoke quietly, under your breath. They had trusted him over you, he must be something special, when where you had tried to help- you did nothing but get yourself in trouble.

Sam stood amiss for a moment, you weren't the friendly sort so he least expected gratitude from you. “Just doing my job _____,” he extended a toothy grin before taking his leave.

You fully intended to watch over the blond, but instead you gave in to your tired eyes. You didn't know how the tower’s resident hawk could stand only watching for hours on end. Minding the cords attached to the two of you, you curled up in a ‘you-sized’ spaced beside Steve on the hospital bed. 

 

You woke up to the sound melodic of breathing and your hair being stroked. From what you thought was resting your head on the pillow turned into you sleeping with your ear on Roger's wide chest. You groaned awake, peeling yourself off the captain. He looked back distantly. Still distant? Where was he?

"Hey," you slid a hand to sweep the hair from his eyes, hair like that? Wasn't that bad practice for a soldier?

"Hey," the hand that had been playing with your hair since his wake traced something on your neck, his fingers were calloused from war. As your bandaged hand retracted he also noticed you were missing a thumb.

You realised what he was tracing on your throat were the bruises left over.

To him they were a blotchy brown and yellow, almost healed, but he could still just see them. He was watching them slowly disappear while you slept like dark clouds shifting the sky.

"What happened there?" He asked absently.

You grimaced and wondered how to put, ‘your pal Bucky made my head face backwards’. And tried, “you first, how was it that I found you on that beach?”

“-you found me?” It was all rather hazy to the blond, there was something vaguely there about being carried by an angel. He gazed upon you, close enough. “Bucky- he pulled me out of the water, did you see him? We have to find him-” he tried to sit up but you pressed him down with a hand.

“You have to heal,” Your heart was divided. On one hand, your Captain’s eyes lit up thinking of James Barnes, on the other, it was the same man who left you like this. Left you with this swirling darkness in the pit your stomach, your body could heal, but your time over the past couple of days had left you with something incurable.

Steve had dimmed as he was force back into the bed. His best friend was out there, and he could do nothing to help it. "They did something to him ______," just informing you of it cut deep into him.

“I know,” You looked at him sadly, and touched your neck to confirm his suspicions, you'd told the others loosely that you had a run in with Bucky, Steve would find out one way or another. He had done this to you, just as much he had done that to Steve’s face. The blotchy bruises covered his face as evidence of how far James Barnes has fallen, and you wouldn't forgive him for it. Your hands itched for his end.

"If I had of known he was alive-" he looked away from you. Imagine the prospect of his friend being alive, he wouldn't be alone anymore, but what he must have been through- what he has become. Left to those-  _ beasts _ for years, longer than a lifetime. He pretended he found the outside window of the hospital wing that much more interesting. The sun was starting to come up and he wondered where Bucky was now.

You pretended not to see the tears of your greatest hero, leaning back down into the spot you were comfortable before. Steve hadn't meant for you to see it, how much he missed his own time, how much he missed his friend, how much it hurt to see James Barnes as he was now. But you did, and you wouldn't forget. He needed his friend, but you didn't know whether or not Barnes was capable of more harm than good. You listened to his breathing, lacing your fingers through his with a squeeze. Falling back into sleep. 

Steve knew you weren't the best with people, but you did all you had to, you were there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is such a lad  
> Everyone miss the avengers?  
> Thank you for the 108 kudos c':   
> and your awesome comments  
> and for being you  
> <3   
> Hopefully you're all still enjoying :D


	11. The nest

 

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty~ we have things to do" Arrogance called from beside your bed. You didn't move much to his disapproval. "Jarvis, the curtains," he clapped.

"Already working on it sir." The voice complied.

You felt like hissing at the uninvited visitor and light in your room, much like nosferatu had. You didn't move, screw moving, you didn't want to do anything today or any other day for that matter. Imagine, you had thought yourself dead! You'd been feeling strange since then, disconnected, it probably was nothing more than a side effect. So screw all of it, you were going to enjoy the finer things in life like sleeping in.

Happily, when Shield’s information got dumped to the world, Banner's personal journal was kept to himself, seems you weren't the only one not to trust Shield. However, your past was out there for the world to see like a pair of dirty underwear on a flagpole, and everyone was judging you for it. Nat had gotten Bruce off in negotiations, she said you were no problem, you were an Avenger now -sort of.

"________!" Stark tried again more impatiently, you'd been in here for weeks on end, not moving from that bed. This was precisely why he told Pepper he never, ever, ever. Ever. Wanted children. He was busy, he had things to do. This called for another Tony Stark-wake up. He pulled at the doona but you were very attached to it.

You were stronger than the last time he attempted to do this to you. You weren't giving in, you were sleeping damn it! Well, technically now you were awake now but you felt like even if you were, you would pretend to sleep for another couple of hours to an entire day, or another week, just so Tony Stark would not get his way for once.

"Listen here Princess, don't make me get the suit, because I will damn it!" He reprimanded.

You shrugged, pulling your blanket closer to your body. Bring on the suit, you could deal with it! You were positive, he could 'come at you bro'.

Stark sensed the challenge. He wasn't going to back away.

"Sir, may I advise against bringing the suit into such a petty discord?" The computer sounded exasperated at the protocols that ensued after damage.

"No you may not." Stark sassed. He touched a bracelet on his wrist and with the next elevator his suit was covering his body. "Let's try this again shall we?" He pulled on the other end of the down filled duvet.

"No!" You said childishly in defiance.

"Yes!" He didn't know what he was agreeing to now but be damned if he was going to comply with you.

"Nuuuuu!" You could feel the blanket being pulled from you, so you pulled back harder, anchoring yourself on the bed head with one hand. Someone should have told the blanket this it was going to be fought over by one and a half Avengers, it may have got its stitching doubled, because instead there was a was a nasty ripping sound before the room was filled with goose feathers. They littered the air like a thick smog, surrounded the floor. So this is what it would look like if you lived in the clouds?

Tony, in his suit, had fell on his ass with a ' _clunk'_ holding one side of the torn blanket, he looked pissed.

To add insult to injury, you picked up your side of the rag and snuggled into it, pretending to go back to sleep.

Stark suddenly stormed off.

You had thought you won but then you heard the door open a second time.

"_______!" Oh shit, he called Mum. "What did you do to your blanket?"

"But Clint! It was him!" You rose yourself to look at the pair. Tony was standing next to Barton like an impish child holding a dirty smirk on his face. Your eyes slitted to him.

"Either way, you're awake now so you might as well go with him," he frowned at you, it concerned him that you haven't moved from this spot since everything with Steve.

Did he wear that look when telling off his children? You scowled at the two of them. You hadn't been asked to wake up like this, you hadn't asked to wake up at all. You stood from the bed finally and as your final act of defiance, you got a handful of down from your bed and threw it in the face of Clint before skittering off with Tony.

Barton sighed before rubbing his head. "-Kids."

 

You changed in the second floor's bathroom deeming your room not safe to go back to with Clint huffing around. You put on your usual training gear, as Tony had requested, which was a tank that had refused to go over the black, metal restraints before, and track pants.

"This is what I wanted to show you, if you would have gotten up sooner!" He grumbled picking a white feather from his hair.

You both got off at the tower's lowest level, you thought this had been his garage, but it was lower than that. It was underneath the tower, there was a bunch of blue foam mats just like up in the training room. But they already had a training room, what was the point of this?

"It's a weights room." He answered your minds question before you could ask it. "Jarvis wouldn't let me have it in the training room, said something about being up too high up and structural integrity- so it's here. Weights all the way up to ten tonnes." He'd met another, according to his data base, that could lift much, much more than that, his eyes sparkled on you.

Your back hurt from just looking at all the weights.

"Now I won’t strap you to them any more,” Tony grimaced remembering your mangled hand, “but I trust you will lift them. In fact there is a three tonne backpack over there that is just asking you to go for a run in it." He tried to make it sound exciting but he was not the one who would be picking up the weights.

“-run?” Your brows drew together, “Tony- I-i can't go out there,” you turned pleading eyes on him. Everything bad that has ever happened to you starts with out _there._

Stark’s eyes shifted, you'd been strange since you got back, well, stranger. “You remember what you said to me in lobby when you brought Captain Wonderful back?”

The entire event was all a bit fuzzy for you, remembering that day pulled at your innards. You wanted to forget.

From your blank expression the man in perfect facial hair kept talking, “you said you wanted to be stronger- now, there are cameras all over that park, think of it as an extension of the tower,” he gestured to the weight again.

You glared at what he had called a 'backpack' it was another of his black boxes and it had onyx chain loops dangling from it. If you got stronger you'd never suffer that fate again.

"It's a perfect morning to go for a run!" He gave you slap on the back and a thumbs up, still wearing the red and yellow suit before getting back into the lift.

You relived the exact moment when Bucky’s hold on you turned hostile. That wouldn't happen ever again. You begrudgingly picked up the 'back pack'. Good lord this was much heavier than the last.

There was a door by the front wall, it lead to stairs, that lead to the garage, and from there you could exit the building and walk to the park by the tower, the very same you'd met the Hulk in once. An extension of the tower? That didn't stop the Hulk. You focused solely on the weight on your back, when you were stronger, nothing would ever hurt you again.

 

In the park you saw a familiar looking fox, he was wearing a grey shirt, sweat pants and dog tags. "-Wilson," you greeted already feeling puffed from the stairs.

"Hey there ______, were you looking for a race?" The man's competitive nature was coming out. He couldn't beat Cap but maybe- the littlest half-Avenger was a start. He had come to see Cap and thought to kill two birds with one stone by taking his morning run in this park.

Your eyes changed, you tried to puff out your chest. You weren't all that competitive, however, this was still the man that Nat and Cap decided to have an adventure with over you, maybe you could let that go, given that you beat him with this amount of weight on your back. Oh, it was on. Like donkey kong. "-let's do this."

 

Perhaps you were getting ahead of yourself? It was only five laps of the park, you didn't think he would be that fast. He found it rather funny to say “on your left,” as he passed you each time. In fact he did a few laps in step with you just to gloat at how he had beaten you. Your lungs burned, your everything shook from over exertion. At one point you thought you were going to throw up, there was sweat, like, _everywhere_. "I'm done!" You arrived back at Avengers’ tower. You had almost forgot about the damn weight.

"Sure, if you called that running." He chuckled. Wilson was feeling pretty good about himself at this point in time, you were only a probationary avenger? He was going to make the team in no time, perhaps even before you.

You could just kick that smile from his face. "-Next time," you puffed out. "-Next time we race -won't wear this." You flopped the black box to the ground with a resounding _thump_ followed by a _crack_. A small earthquake occurred. You had cracked the pavement outside Avenger's tower. My, you were destructive today, damn right Tony! That's what he got for ripping your blanket and telling Mum it had been you!

Meanwhile, Sam had become very quiet, he looked at you with his mouth kind of agape like he was doing an impression of a cod. "How heavy was that?" His voice was rather high pitched.

"-try lifting it and find out." You challenged raising a brow.

At that he puffed out his chest much as you had, "-all in the knees," he declared before bending them, and grasping on to on of the chain straps. He gave a tug. With some groaning- Yeah, no, that wasn't going anywhere. It was like the Excalibur effect. "But just how heavy is it though?" He asked again, his voice even higher than last time.

"-over three short-tons" you smiled, you gave a sort of stretch. "-ready to go again if you want a rematch." You really weren't though.

"Nah, I'm good," his voice was still kind of high pitched as he waved it off.

You still wouldn't be happy until you can at least lap him wearing that weight. You wanted to cement your place in the team, cement your place in that tower. "-I am going to return this thing," you hoisted it back on your back, "Then I am going to go inspect a fossil."

Sam pulled a face.

"-Still the same isn't he?" You looked at the large crack in the ground sadly. You weren't much different either, when you thought about it, you smiled on the outside but something within felt fundamentally wrong ever since you died. Like you had lost something, something broke within you. You were chucking it up to seeing Steve the was he was- but deep down something wasn't right with you.

"He always seems better when you're around though," he gave you a slight smile that showed his gapped teeth.

"See you around Wilson- I am serious about that rematch." You gave him a playful glare before ambling with the weight on your back to the weights room, your smile slowly vanishing.

 

Rogers was in his room when you went looking, and Sam was right, Steve was just as distant as the day he had arrived back from the falling helicarrier. You were a selfish creature, when kids were cruel to you back in school you decided then and there you would live solely for yourself, because fuck everyone else, and everything about your selfish self said you didn't like your Captain sulky, you didn't like when he pulled his face in that way, you didn't like it one bit, you didn't like that he just sat there in that bed. That was your schtick, it bothered you to see someone else do it, made you seem pitiful, because it was.

You needed him the way he was before- so you could tell him without guilt that something was going on with you. You hadn't told anyone what happened to you on that beach because Steve needed Bucky Barnes- and tell them what he did to you would break up the party on that plan. As it was, you didn't even know if you could bring yourself to help obtain Barnes.

All of your instincts with people skills says you were going to do something insensitive and maybe a bit rude, but he could hate you for all you care, he was going to be happy while doing it.

"Steve!" You yelled, abruptly derailing his thought train as he sat on his head staring out the window.

"Oh, _______, I didn't hear you come in." He mumbled. He looked bad, he looks sad and gaunt and not in any way shape or form Captain America.

"Gah! I hate seeing you like this!" No one else had said it, nor had they said it to you, but you could feel it. The two of you looked too much alike these days. Banner had made him stay in bed just for a little while longer while he heals. Screw that, he looked fine to you. "You're coming with me!" You grab a hand and yank him to his feet, a little rougher than you probably intended.

"_______, I'm in my pyjamas," yeah he was, a tight, white shirt and stripe pants.

You shrugged, that made no difference. "Jarvis, training room." You ordered pulling Steve in the elevator with you.

"But Miss, did you not just get back from our new weights room?"

"I appreciate your concern Jarvis but I don't need to be at full capacity to take this one down." You elbowed Steve slightly.

"Is that how it is?" He eyed you.

"Oh, that's how it is old man." You smirked.

 

After tossing Steve around a few times in the beginning because Mr. Grumpy Pants wasn't feeling like sparring, a few derogatory comments later he had you in a bit of a choke hold. You were seeing flecks of the old Steve every now and again in the twinkle of his blue eyes.

"You know Dr. Banner doesn't want me out of bed let alone sparring with the current strongest almost-Avenger on the planet." He added both current because of the Hulk and on the Planet because there was no ruling out Thor. Then again- you were the only ‘almost avenger’ to begin with. Fury was quietly  going allow Sam into the gang. He didn't know if he should tell you that or not.

Gah, they always hold that over you, ‘almost-avenger’. "Banner doesn't see the natural healing benefit of a badass round house kick to the stomach." You chuckled.

“You know you shouldn't call out your moves before executing them, right?” Steve almost smiled.

“Where's the fun in that?” You weren't the most nimble or coordinated of beings but Barton had been showing you acrobatic skills from a time when he was indeed an acrobat. You have never fell flat on your face so many times in one sitting, but you were learning. You were no Romanoff, but you could pull a an alright flip out of the box when you needed to dodge something with style points.

 

"Pickles! Pickles! P-ickles,"

Rogers had his entire top half on you, pressing all his weight down, with his back to you and your head and arm locked between his forearm and upper, your arm was made useless to you and just kind of flopped around a bit. He pulled that straight out of a Judo handbook.

"I'm done," you laid on the foam mat all bruised when released. That sucked, you were stronger and yet the old man can still pin you so easily? Not fair. Though he probably had a lot more experience than you.

He came to lie next to you, staring at the ceiling.

You remember doing this with Barton, in fact, this had come to be a ritual. You get destroyed and you walk it off. Or rather, just kind of lay there wondering if your muscles will ever work again. You thought about Bucky for a while, what were you going to do now? What were you going to do to the man that tried to kill you? Suppose he was still out there mindlessly murdering? Suppose he went back to Hydra? Should you find and kill him or try to save him? You knew what your body itched to do. You guessed these were questions Steve had asked himself a million times over. It wasn't your right to choose. It was his. "Steve, what are we going to do about Bucky?" You wondered out loud. Regardless of the answer you were going to teach that shit head a lesson for the things he did to Steve.

"I want to find him." Is all he said.

You could tell he didn't just mean physically, you had to look away from him, you wanted your normal Steve back, regardless of what you wanted, your heart beat only for revenge for everything done to you and him.

 

“We are going out,”

You jumped at this as you had been emerged in a drawing. “Nat, we've been over this- I don't want to go out there anymore,” you were sketching a blond bearded fellow with a hearty smile. You glowered at your own drawing, it wasn't fair that he got to smile like that while you felt like _this._

The swirling black hole in your stomach only grew with time.

“We are going for a walk _princess,”_ Natasha swiftly kicked the chair out from underneath you. You were putting her off her game, in the midst of a mission she would suddenly think of you alone in this tower. Steve was slowing getting back into the game, at least he was trying, you on the other hand-

Landed on your ass with a _thump._ You looked up at her with wide eyes, “what was that for?”

“Come, we’re going shopping,” she gave you a sweet smile as if she'd done nothing, when she saw you hesitate, “I can always make you~” she promised.

You swallowed, she wasn't wrong, Nat was too nimble and quick, her entire fighting style was to turn your own strength against you, the stronger you got, the harder you fell.

Natasha’s idea of shopping hadn't been what you expected, you stuck to here like a gluey shadow as she took you to shadier looking areas than you wanted to be. She met with a ratty looking man who once sold to shield, you'd never witnessed so many weapons in your life, nor had you ever seen Nat light up in that way before, her eyes glittered like stars. The event saw you being taught by Natasha Romanoff on how to fire a gun in the shooting range at the back, to her it was like trying on new clothes. You found yourself wishing to never hold a gun ever again, you shivering at your own killer accuracy. It was as if you'd done this before.

 

* * *

 

 

"So what are you carrying this time?" Came Wilson's usual deep voice.

You had lapped him yesterday and so you got Tony to put chains on the weight you had been lifting on the bar, and the one up you would use for lifting on the bar, you kinda wondered how he accumulated them. It would tip a forklift by now wouldn't it?- you could probably tip a forklift with a single tonne.

Your rivalry with Sam grew since finding out he have been made an official Avenger, meanwhile- you were still a probee. It was cruel, you've been in the tower for far longer and yet this guy out ranked you?! It was a slap in the face, where ever Nick Fury was, you were sure he was grinning to himself.

"Ten," you sighed. This was going to be awful, you thought nine was bad enough, but the science bros kept pushing you, this was the last weight they had for you, you'd have to start carrying two at the same time next.

You had finished a book and sent it to the editor, you had been writing between training and searching for James Barnes. Nat would sometimes take you out for what she claimed to be a detox from the testosterone that surrounded the Avengers tower, you'd been apprehensive about the whole leaving the tower thing for a long while but eased into it.

She assumed she should take you out on girly expeditions as she was the only one who could, too bad she didn't exactly know what they were in the first place, scaling buildings, weapon stores, BASE jumping, once she took you to a thrift shop because she knew you liked that sort of thing, but you could tell she was looking for disguises on not actual clothing.

To whichever avenger took you out, you stuck unhealthily close to, they had become your home away from home it was the only way to get you out of your room anymore.

Clint took you to things like car washes and others that came up in conversation that you'd never done; they were just small things but you found it all very interesting.

Banner tested your strength and percentages every now and again. The two of you were also creating a zen garden in one of the many office rooms of stark tower you had deemed unused. It was open, banner made you blow out the glass and replaced it for a rail and around sunset it was the place to be as the entire cityscape lit up beautiful oranges and pinks. A perfect breath of fresh air without leaving they calming safety of the tower.

You didn't often see Stark, but when you did he was working on things in his workshop, even he taught you things in his own little way, you were currently working on an old seventies Ford Mustang, it no longer worked from mistreatment and its lime green and black racing stripes paint job was peeling so it wouldn't be a waste to try giving it new life through its own Arc Reactor.

Still, Tony spent a lot of his time in the Middle East finding out about the misuse of his weapons so you didn't get to play with the car much.

Everything just kind of worked, except the finding of Bucky. It was clear he didn't want to be found because he wasn't making it easy.

"Okay so, the plan is, you, dress up in all black, right; like a ninja. You pretend to steal her purse, I then rush in and throw you around a bit because Cap says you can take a punch and I save the day." The sly creature slowed himself down, matching your step, there was no way you were making it competitive today, you could barely lift this thing. He saw nothing wrong with any of his plans to pick up the ladies, where you saw many.

"Isn't that being deceitful? How can you base a relationship off that?" You panted through the weight, suppose you weren't exactly the best person to give relationship advice but still -it all sounded a bit wrong.

"She'd find it cute you know, I'll be all like; I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, and what is important is the eyes, look,"

You looked at him, he was doing something odd with his eyes, looking at you expectantly.

"It's the puppy eyes effect," he sounded proud, but you weren't sure of what.

"And does that really work casanova?" You doubted the man jogging next to you.

He pretended to look hurt "Seventy percent of the time it works a hundred percent of the time."

"You're the worst," you chuckled.

 

"-So, what are we doing here?" You sipped on a caramel milkshake, this cafe was Disney themed, which just meant it was pretty expensive. But you couldn't quite fault this milkshake, it was pretty epic, and you wouldn't admit- but it was very cute too, it was too good especially after enduring all of those nasty-ass, ugly protein shakes.

"There was reports of a homeless man with a metal arm in the area," Steve spoke not looking away from the window your booth was situated right next to.

"So we're on an old fashioned stake out? Should we have brought disguises? You'd look fine in a mustache- a beard even!," You smiled, your joke fell on deaf ears, they always did in these situations, he was somewhere else.

You could tell he was going through the the motions pretending he was fine, he had to be, he was Captain America, he was completely transparent to you though. You sipped your shake further, studying the man in front of you. He had changed, even if slightly, colder, darker. His eyes didn't seem so bright as the first time you had met him, suppose there is only so much one can take? He looked tired. "Cap, when was the last time you slept?"

"Last night, same as you," he responded almost too quickly.

"Don't lie to me," you squinted at him with his eye bags of tired.

"Fine," he said with a sigh, "maybe the day before?"

You'd even be skeptical of that. Your brows drew together, it was time you flew the nest wasn't it?- you were acting cowardly, you had been doing so since finding Steve out there, you swallowed some more shake to wet your drying mouth. That was a long time ago, you were five times stronger than when it all happen. He needed his sleep, he wouldn't be help to anyone like this. It wasn't like you'd actually bump into Barnes after all this time. "I'll stake out, it's less conspicuous if it is one anyway, you head back on your bike and get some rest, I'll walk home."

"I'm not tired." He suddenly rose his voice, so most of the diner heard. You still shouldn't be alone. He hasn't forgotten the reason why you came to them, or rather, why he dragged you to the tower kicking and screaming. Even if you had. There was something out there waiting for you. His carelessness wasn't going to get you in trouble and he had to find Bucky. He was hurting out there by himself.

It had you jump slightly, the nervous tenancies only came out on occasion these days your form of meditation worked well most of the time. You place a hand over his and bring them to the center of the table, your hands were cold from holding the milkshake. "Hey, it's okay, if I find him," which you somehow doubted, and really hoped you didn't, "I'll take him straight to you. Now go the fuck to bed."

He peaked a brow at your dirty tongue. "Watch your mouth Princess." He countered. But he digressed, you were stronger than even him, look at you, willing to leave his side. He hasn't seen that since the purge of Shield’s information.

Nat said it would be good for you to go out by yourself but could never tempt you out of your apartment alone, the apartment which looked more and more like a cave every time he saw it. "I suppose you're right," he gave a stretch, leaving your hands where they were. "Are you sure you'll be okay out here- you know, without me?" He wanted to make extra sure.

You had a troubled look, "If I don't let go of mother's hand now- I probably never will." It wasn't some small thing having your neck broken and coming back from it- but what could go wrong? You were in a Disney cafe and you had become too quick for anyone to catch you.

Steve stood letting his chair scrape across the floor at that, reaching over to mess with your hair under a big palm. "Okay my big, adult Princess- I'll see you at the tower."

"No you won't, you'll be asleep remember." You scoffed, pretending to be oh so sure of yourself.

"Yes Ma'am," you captain gave you a small salute.

Moments later you heard the roar of a motorcycle take off into the distance, merging with the other sounds of traffic.

 

Initially you grew a sinking feeling without anyone around to look after you, it soon evolved into straight boredom. You sat perched there for ages, you even stayed for tea; a Mickey shaped meat pie, you'd have to remember to take your pills when your return. You saw absolutely nothing, nothing but the sky darkening, nothing to even give reason to your nerves. You stared out the dark window like this and felt empty.

The way you were hadn't improved but gotten worse. You became to wonder- perhaps you should have stayed dead on that beach. You didn't feel right, you were going through the motions, you were doing what you thought was right by Steve, but deep down- you stopped caring a long time ago. You didn't want people to worry, but when you were alone in that weights room, you would punch that weighted bag until your knuckles were raw, you wanted to feel, you wanted to prove you weren't a husk of a human. This feeling welled into a cycle of anger. Anger you tried to keep hidden, that felt like any day now would simply explode from within you.

You didn't like being out when it got dark in New York, you felt absently for your bag, freaked out momentarily and were reassured when you remembered you left the good ol' mumma hawk eyes with your bag. It was easier that way, he would keep Tony from touching them and there was no safer place than Avenger's tower. _Safe and sound, safe and sound._ You twitched for a moment. It's been a long time since that had happened.

You smoothed your hair as if nothing happened. You were probably tired, starting a new weight today and everything. There was certainly nothing happening here, it was getting late, the news had been and went, you didn't pay it any mind. Tony had been right, the more important things they knew before the news did, even then if it was something like the Stark weapons, they knew soon enough and more in depth.

You stood up finally, your legs hurt a little from not moving for the longest time. You rolled the sleeves up on your brown leather jacket, which had been Nat's idea and not yours, it made you in your floral dress less cool grandma and more badass in a dress, she had reasoned that if you were going on a ride with Cap on the back of the motorcycle you should wear it.

You were getting ready to run. The cafe's bell gave a ding with the doors opening, and you were off, climbing the closest building that allowed and running across rooftops. When you had the gall, you even tried out some of those acrobatics Clint had shown you. - it was too late in the day for you to care who could see up your dress. You felt so free like this, no weight held you down, no artifacts tied you up, you could be as reckless as you liked. Even some of the emptiness you felt inside disappeared for a moment.

There was no fear- is this how everyone else felt normally? You hadn't been able this way since the Winter Soldier experience. You breathed in the cool night's air intent of giving a sigh of contentment, instead all but coming to a stop before exhaling, stopped right before the next break in buildings, at the speed you were running at there was no dead stop; you skidded on your bare feet painfully before your stunned self fell straight off the edge of the building, you bit down on a startled scream.

You were glad Cap wasn't there so see you plummet from a two story building onto you ass. Good god, the only danger to you this night is yourself. You were glad _no one_ was there to see that in fact. It didn't hurt all that much, you rubbed your posterior before being reminded once again why you had just stupidly fell from a building.

There was a scent on the night’s breeze. It could be nothing, but you had to know. You wanted to get help, you didn't want to go alone, you wanted Steve. You squinted up at the tower in the distance, you could see it in any part of New York it was so tall, it was too far away.

How would it break Steve to know that you were this close to the scent of the man you're looking for and you missed him? You took a steadying breath. You were stronger than you were the last you ran into him. If things went south, it would not end up the same way as it had before. You were going to be okay.

You blindly followed your nose, your sense of smell seemed to only get better with your strength. You scaled a wall, then another, stood on a building to get a better angle. _Sniff sniff._ Yeah, that was it, of course you'd be the one to find him, being the one who least wanted to, and of course you would only happen across him when you're all alone.

An abandoned Sunset Sarsaparilla warehouse, it was overgrown by dead grass, and was surrounded by old trucks with the brand stamped on them. The slice of land looked eerily unaffected by the surrounding modern infrastructure, like a perfect wasteland in the middle of a corporate jungle.

The scent smelt like a specific type machine oil, a defined masculine scent that was unique to the owner, a very strong Russian drink and some of the grotesque parts of not having a shower on tap. You had slept amongst the homeless hoards of New York before, you knew that smell all too well.

You went for the front door. There was no point sneaking up on him and scaring the shit out of him, he would only run- because that is what you would do. It was already what your instincts were yelling at you to do. The front door seemed diplomatic.

Well, after trying; it was locked. You'd have to ask Nat to teach you to lock pick next time you get her alone. Your ears picked up on something, there was a sharp intake of breath- he could sense that you were here. A turn came over your stomach. You had no time for lock picking, you gave the double doors a swift kick. Perhaps you over did it? They didn't just swing from their hinges as they had been chained from the inside, they broke from the hinges, falling flat on the cement floor. You cringed at the loud sound in comparison to the dead night. You really weren't the stealthiest of creatures.

Well, you had intended not to scare him away, you may have fucked up. You moved quietly, like that made a difference. This was the old operating floor, where the bottles of sarsaparilla were filled, all the appliances had warped into disfigurement, it was like an eery machinery graveyard. As if you weren't already on edge.

“Come to take me in, have you?” Winter’s voice was low and discomforting as you couldn't quite pin point not his location.

All you saw were more dead machines, in the darkness they warped further to almost look like living terrors. Truthfully, you didn't want to take him in, he was your killer, but there was a void in Steve you could never hope to fill without him. “I won't hurt you,” -if you could help it, you clenched a fist.

His voice sent chills around your body. “Why have you come looking?” The voice asked, while you tried to determine its location.

Though you have no idea how Steve can forgive him, “Low and behold, someone out there actually wants you back- alive,” The voice was coming from higher up. He wasn't on the ground floor. You listened for quiet breathing, it was hard as he was indeed an assassin. There were two flights of stairs made of rusting steel. You sniffed once more. He was in what looked to be an overseer's office up there. So this is where he had been hiding out? The stairs gave lude screeches of defiance as you climbed them.

You didn't think it mattered all that much, there seemed to be one way out of the office and now it was through you. Whether that was a good or bad thing for you- you couldn't tell.

You pushed the door in, there was a bookcase in the way for some sort of protection but it fell all the same. Then you saw him, at the far side of the office, crumpled on the ground, leaning on the wall, various bottles surrounding. Your heart gave a double beat, you hated that it acted of its own accord every time you witnessed him.

He was slumped in a stupor against a wall. A shadow cast over his eyes as he raised a bottle to his broken lips, the scruff on his face had grown out further, as had his hair, only by a couple of centimetres. His muscles were deteriorating in his black armour he had hidden under and equally black, holey hoodie. His right, fleshier arm looked to have mended, hydra had played with his cells hadn't they? He healed without medical help.

This was the man who had you hiding scared in the tower like a child? He was the one who robbed you of your recent independence, and had you cling to the avengers. _The man who killed you, the one who watched on as you were tortured._

The vast storm of his grey eyes watched you as he slowly returned to his feet. He hadn't yet submitted to his fate, he wasn't going with you if he could help it but he was tired- tired of it _all_

You clenched your teeth remembering Steve's injuries. -should you bring him back with you? Would that be more poisonous to Cap then just ending him here and hiding his existence. You felt a murderous something building, but it wasn't your choice to make. “I'm taking you back with me whether you like it or not,” you growled low.

“-I'm sorry,” he apologised before he made his first swing with the metallic arm. He wasn't going back to Hydra, never again.

You brought up a forearm to protect yourself, it was as if the robotic part had come in contact with a rock. Part of you was waiting for this moment. All that time lifting weights, getting thrown to the blue mats over and over again, for this moment to avenge yourself. To make him rue the day he left you in the sand.

“Do you remember me?” You grinned in bloodlust, through gleaming teeth, your next actions would be based on his answer, would be based on the moment he begs for your forgiveness.

His brow furrowed, his eyes ran over your face. “Paul Baker- I read about you in a museum.” The only way you could be alive then- was hydra's doing, it was always Hydra.

You didn't understand how he had gotten there, in what realm did you look like a ‘Paul’? A ‘Baker’ perhaps, but not a Paul. “That's the wrong answer,” you seethed. “Don't you remember leaving me there on the bank? You don't remember twisting my head the wrong way around?” He doesn't remember making you lock yourself away In that tower? A sneer formed on your lips, blinding hatred took over. You'd make him remember, you'll show him what it feels like to die. Blocking, freeing both of his limbs from you, leaving him open for a heavy kick backwards.

He stumbled backwards into the wall with the sheer force. He looked again, you had bare feet- you were the strange girl from the underpass. That couldn't possibly be true, he had snapped your pretty neck with these hands. You're an aberration his drunken mind made up, you weren't the first ghost to haunt him.

Something shift within and it occurred to him -You're the one who took out his men. Winter frowned, his gaze steely. “I remember.” He came at you full force, bearing back the advance you had gained, fighting like a rabid animal.

He was much more skilled than you, he was a honed Hydra soldier, but he couldn't match you for strength. You aimed a fist for his scruffy face, one that was sure to kill.

He was fast enough to dodge, sliding around you to wrap an arm around your waist and another around your neck.

This again. You could feel his hot body behind you, your face heated. Stop acting like this. You weren't going out like this again, with his arm on your neck. You aimed a sharp elbow towards his rib cage and felt immense pleasure when there was a cracking response.

The winter soldier doubled over losing his grip on you.

You grabbed the metallic arm that was moments ago around your neck and bent it a way it probably shouldn't.

The man called out in pain.

His screams only fuelled you until there was a snapping within and the arm went limp.

For good measure you kneed him in the nose. He was weak. How could anything like him make you scared? You were so tired of being scared. So, so tired. Your heart beat hot anger.

Bucky had shrunk to his knees gripping at his ribs, head bowed, had he been in peak form there was no way things would end up this way. 

You gripped the front of his hoodie, and brought him to looked at you, bringing your fist back.

Blood smeared his face, he tilted to lookup at you with exhaustion in his grey eyes. “Do it,” he spoke through struggled breaths, his teeth a gruesome pink, the inside of his cheek bitten from your knee.

You wanted to. For everything he did to Cap, for shooting Natasha- twice, for how distant Steve was, which teared you down layer by layer. For your death and this empty feeling you've had ever since. You drew a shaky breath. It wasn't your choice to make. Frustrated tears prickled your eyes. “You killed me.” You sniffed, you didn't do anything to incur it, but yet he did anyway. You thought you were worth more than that. “You son of a bitch.” You released him roughly and stumbled backwards.

You crumpled to the ground beside him for what you had done. You had beat the shit out of Bucky Barnes- your hero’s hero. Steve's hero. His best friend. You had no right.

Barnes was broken, the two of you leaned against the wall. How were still alive after what he did, then again, he had seen your nails grow back within the hour they had been ripped from your hands. Why had he just stood there and let that happen? “what are you? A super soldier?” He had spoken through pain gritted teeth and laboured breathing. It had been silent for a while, he heard you sniffle a couple of times.

“You and Steve are the only super soldiers I know- I'm just.. a monster.” You spoke quietly still unbelieving in your outburst.

Something so lovely- a monster? His ribs laughed at his mind. “You know Stevie? Is he okay?” His voice was hurried.

Of course. Naturally Bucky cared about Steve, enough to refer to him as ‘Stevie’, you kicked the shit out of him and he has not only remorse for what he has done, but is also an upstanding citizen. Guilt riddled you into feeling like the biggest, dirtiest smudge on the planet. “No- of course he isn't okay!”

Barnes’ shoulders dip at this.

“He hasn't been sleeping or eating and certainly hasn't been smiling, worse still, I just came along beat the crap out of the only thing that could make him better, because god knows I can't.” You buried your face in your hands and all you have accomplished is in making it worse.

“-you're not with Hydra?” No- of course not, you'd killed his soldiers. But then again they weren't his soldiers, no- they were Hydra’s soldiers. His head was a mess, looking over you again- you couldn't really be Baker, no matter how hard he wished it.

“I was supposed to be one of the good guys,” you laughed but felt no humour. There was no good within you, no matter how hard you tried.

He frowned, “so was I.” Now he was a danger to be around, you may be able to handle him, but if he ever got the upper hand, you would be dead. “-I can't go with you to the Avengers.” He couldn't risk Steve.

At this you stood. “I'm sorry for what I have done to you, and I will stay away from you, but Steve needs you.” Way more than he needed you.

“If you take me back there, there is no telling what I'll do to them,” this was Bucky Barnes talking, beneath all of Hydra’s programming, the one they tortured, the one they experimented on. The American soldier, the hero.

"I can assure you, I'll never let you touch them,” you snapped coldly, your brows drew together, you hated this poison you carried, youd already reduced him to a pile on the ground- when will you stop? You softened, "can you stand?"

He scowled in response. Why weren't you listening?

Those defiant grey eyes, your face pulled. “Look- what did Hydra tell you of Bruce Banner?”

He didn't see how that was relevant. “That he is a gamma scientist who had an experiment go wrong resulting in him changing forms when he is angered.”

“-and you think that you could be more of a nuisance to the avengers than both me, him and whatever Tony Stark feels like accidentally unleashing on the world next?” You thought of how his suits got taken over. On some level most of the avengers could do more harm than good if they slipped up.

“Plus, if you try to run now- I have no problem carrying you to them, like a blushing bride,” you remembered when he had done the same to you, disgusting part of you wanted him to fight back again, begged him to. You offered him a shaking hand as you held all of yourself back.

Barnes resigned taking your hand and standing on unsteady feet.

You really did a number on him. This was you fault. You took his only working hand that he had offered and drew it around your shoulders, your arm looping around his waist to help the hobbling soldier.

“Should have taken me dancing first,” he mumbled in muse, he was clinging to you harder than he wanted to admit, he wouldn't be standing without you.

At least his humor was intact you grimaced, feeling just how thin he had become, it riddled you conscience further. You decimated a weak, thin, drunk, homeless man. How could you ever look Steve in the eye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :3  
> I'm still around~  
> I've just found myself quite busy with school  
> sorry D:  
> I'll try harder for you guys  
> thank you for the 126 kudos and kind comments~ makes me feel the giddy :D :D


	12. The Winter Bucky

The Winter Soldier glowered up at you from the hospital bed stuck between two minds.

That glare he was giving you probably wasn't giving him the desired effect he was going for. From Hawkeyes’ viewing seat you felt pinned by those greys, and you were still reeling from the lasting effects of walking twelve blocks under his arm, surrounded in his masculine scent which you knew you probably shouldn't find attractive, but by god you secretly did. He had this disturbing primal effect on you. And now you were viewing what he looked like on a bed. You had to get out this room.

He hadn't said much on the way over, he had become your prisoner as much as you had when you were shot and carried to Hydra. He was in fact silent even now, awkwardly so. Just you and him. And your history together laying over the two of you like a wet towel. 

You cleared your throat, “I can at least tell you that bed is comfortable,” you tried repositioning in your chair as if that made things less uncomfortable. It was the same bed you spent weeks in after the Hulk experience -and the man now residing in it also had left you there. You swallowed dark thoughts. You really had to get out of this room.

You tried to quell your emotions, “you'll be safe here,” you looked over your purple blotchy handy work that marred his handsome features, that alone made the emptiness you've come to know so well, grow. “These people, they're actually heroes-” and you really weren't. “They'll look after you.” You had to leave this room.

As an act of mercy, the universe saw it fit then to open the ward’s door with a space aged ‘shhhh’, nothing could be kinder. Your stomach then plummeted to see that it was Steve that came through the door, he would inspect your work on James’ face first hand.

“Bucky?” Rogers hadn't seen you were also in the room only his buddy on the hospital bed. He launched into the room taking place by his bedside.

Barnes didn't give too much away as to what he was thinking, only looking up to acknowledge Steve, his expression was softer than it had been regarding you.

“What in god’s good name happened to you?” Steve exclaimed at the sight of a swelling cheek and limp metal arm but also the dirt, sunken cheeks, pale skin and the oily hair.

Your lip pulled between your teeth, you felt as if hot water had rushed over your ears. You cleared your throat for the first time bringing attention to yourself. The disappointed way Steve would look at you would break you into a million pieces but it was nothing you didn’t deserve. Perhaps they would lock you up like they should have in the first place. You couldn't look captain America in the eye. “-I-”

“I had a run in with some punks in an alley- if she had never shown up, I don't know what would have happened.” It was the first thing Bucky had spoken since entering the room.

Your heart came to a skittering halt, not that you let it show. You looked at him curiously, the man had lied for you and you couldn't guess as to why considering it was him that you puréed. You wanted so badly to correct him, but Rogers, the way he looked at you. His blue eyes were twinkling, brimming with pride. You couldn't bring yourself to dash that pride.

“You did a good job out there _____, see, there was never any need for you to stay hidden in your apartment.” The blond ruffled through your hair.

Nothing stung more to you than undeserved praise- “N-no, I don't think I'll go out there for a while,” you felt tears prickle at your eyes. It was better to harbour a creature like you in this building, you were no different than you were all those years ago.

“Did something happen Princess?” Steve crouched by you in your viewing chair.

“No- I'm fine,” you gritted your teeth and willed yourself together, you weren't the person Cap should be consoling. You stood abruptly. “I- need to go bed,” and reside there for eternity.

“Stay,” his voice was quiet on the bed. 

Your heart skipped three times. You looked at the soldier on the bed incredulously, was he mad? Didn't he see what you did? Was he not conscious for that whole thing?

Steve also looked at his old friend in surprise. Perhaps Bucky had taken a liking to you? Barnes looked like a broken man, he probably felt safer around the person who saved him from the thugs. There must have been at least twenty men to keep the soldier in check, soon Rogers also found himself looking at you expectantly. He guessed you staying was the best thing for Bucky.

You were then looking at the two of them. How could you explain how you felt to Steve without revealing all? And how could you leave knowing Bucky could tell Steve what really happened? But the real question was- why did the sergeant want you around, why did he lie in the first place? Seems you didn't have a say in this, still, you didn't want be in the same room any longer. “Jarvis, could you set up the room next door for me and have some clothes sent down?” You tried not to sound begrudging when addressing the computer.

Looking at Steve- this is what Wilson meant by ‘puppy eyes’ and he was correct, seventy percent of the time it worked every time. You looked to those other worried greys, “I'll be in the next door over, Jarvis will update me through the cameras”. You pointed to the three that were in this room alone. Cameras were what Stark tower ran on.

James gave a sharp nod. As long as you were close.

 

You emerged from your shower in the hospital room next to Bucky’s, fluffing your hair with a towel. Your own shower was better, but you were spoilt up there in the residential suite. You were wearing your pink pyjamas courtesy of Clint who came down and shared his disapproval of the situation, imagine, you sharing a wall with an ex assassin you've just met tonight! He wasn't impressed to say the least. In that moment he also relinquished your black pack onto you once more, you could sink to the ground in reprieve.

Steve then came into your room to double check that you were alright after your heroic battle amongst masked assailants you couldn't possibly track down or recognise, tearing your heart asunder while doing so. You then, in your most politest way told him to go to bed after finding out, when you stayed out half the night Clint spent that time chewing him out for leaving you out there.

Banner then poked his head in to tell you that Bucky’s injuries weren't life threatening and that they would heal themselves. He had look at you then, suspiciously and may have dropped that he didn't know of any humans capable of warping that alloy of metal as it had been. You couldn't meet his eye but let him pat your back at that. Your secret was safe with him. But knowing Stark would figure it out- you didn't know how safe you really felt.

This left you to lay in bed that was not your own, to stare up at a ceiling that again, wasn't yours, and try to sleep when all you could think about was the man next door. You hated lying to Steve, it made you feel like dirt, in fact you might have hit an all time low on self esteem. You let out a huff. “Jarvis?” You started as if asking a mirror on the wall. 

“Yes, Princess?” the smart computer responded.

You pulled a grimace, that was probably something Stark programmed it to do. “How is Sergeant James doing?” You enquired.

“Sir is asleep for the moment, I can show you if you want?” 

You frowned, “show me?” You asked if it were possible but the system took it as a command. The television towards the end of your bed flickered to life. “Huh.” He wasn't wrong, James was then dressed in black silk pyjamas and look mildly cleaner than he had, his face devoid of scruff, his hair was glossy upon the pillow.

“You seem to be looking quite intently, do you like what you see Princess?”

Your eyes doubled in size at the cheeky system. “Not appropriate Jarvis.” You replied shortly.

“Of course Princess, my apologies, but I can zoom in if you wish it.” The system sounded to shrug.

Your eyes trained on the soldier’s face once more, he shot was wide so you couldn't quite make out the expression of his sleeping form. You cleared your throat. “I'm not going to tell you not to.” You spoke with false disregard, as if it meant nothing- but it sort of did.

The camera angle changed and focused better on his sleeping features. His rest did not seem peaceful, his brow was furrowed and his teeth were gritted together.

“He’s having a nightmare,” your mouth pulled. He had your deepest sympathies, you knew nightmares better than anyone. It seemed cruel to leave him like that. When you stood your bare feet met with the cold hospital flooring once more.

 

You stood at his bedside. "Bucky!" You called quietly, you didn't want to startle him, your hand reached for him of its own accord, sweeping some sweat from his brow. "Bucky!"

James woke with a start, sitting up, he was as quick as an assassin should be. He reached for you, striking like lightning, gripping your throat with his only working hand. His glare intended to kill, such was the grip on your throat, squeezing.

You wheezed in surprise, you could hear the sound of a crunching aluminium can coming from your esophagus. Your heart was beating in your ears with the jump scare. You reached for the wrist, forcing it from your neck. Free of pressure your breathing was laboured, your expression took a sour turn. His wrist still in hand you violently pushed him back on the bed, forcing his arm over his head.

The winter soldier growled something you weren't to understand and struggled against you, attempting to kick at you.

Now your legs were on the bed, pinning the rest of him down, Natasha could only be proud. Your throat wasn't up for speaking with words but the solid glare on your features was sure to be enough. You harboured a grudge you couldn't fight, you wanted to return the choking favour, you wanted him to feel the fear you hid, you wanted him to know this gaping hole in your chest, you wanted to tie him up, wanted to feel his breath on you, wanted to bite him. You froze at your own thoughts.

You shared a glare that inches from the two of you murdering each other, or something else, both harbouring something evil within.

He struggled further from underneath you but he was malnourished, and without a limb. His bodied grew tired, his breathing was heavy. Finally he was looking at you and actually seeing. “-Baker.” He breathed.

You searched the man underneath you, he wanted something from you. Finally, you realised quite the position you were in, you were straddling his hips and had him restrained.

His breath mingled with yours, looking up at you with those dark greys, you were moments away from leaning your forehead against his, moments away from letting those lips filled the ever growing void in your heart. God, what the hell was he doing to you? 

You swallowed, it wasn't you he was looking at like that, it was the soldier you resembled. “I'm not your precious Baker.” You made a rasping growled though you almost didn't care who you were at that point. There was something seriously deranged about you, thinking of these things have just hurt each other again as you had. Your head wandered to the warehouse, “This makes us even,”

He was searching your face as you still had him pinned, “excuse me?”

“We’re even, for what happened at the bay and at the warehouse, for lying to Steve, and here and now- no more hard feelings this makes us even,” you wanted a way of escaping this guilt that clouded over you every time you looked at him.

Bucky didn't see how- but did this mean you would forgive him? It seemed all too one sided on his behalf, “even,” he stated.

You face was flushed. You released him of your hold. “It was only a dream, I shouldn't have over reacted and did that to your hand,” you passed off, trying to get very far from him, perching at the very end of his bed with your back to him.

James inspected a hand that was already swelling. What was that? For a second there you looked at him as if you'd eat him, but before all that, by all accounts you should have fallen to the ground quite dead. “A dream- even?- I killed you. Again.” He sat up and buried his face him his hands, you were put here only to torture him, to look like his fallen comrade, for him to hurt you over and over again- for you to look at him like that regardless.

“Count your lucky stars it was me then-” you were near convinced you couldn't actually die. You swivelled and pointed to your throat where already blackening bruises were dissipating. Turning back you clench your fists and released them, your head was in a complete tangle, “it could be a rite of passage, I almost killed Steve when he brought me in.” You laughed without mirth. And with that you would love to change the subject- “want to tell me what you were dreaming about?” You had those sort of dreams sometimes, you'd like to think you had a little more self control than to kill someone from them. But if you did- it would probably be Stark.

For what he did, he thought you deserved something. "I was at Hydra, the scientists they were-" his voice got smaller and smaller.

“You're safe here,” you reiterated for him. This was the safest place for you, and for the rest of the world to be rid of you. “You can sleep now-” you stood to walk out the door.

“Stay,” again he moved quickly, reaching for your arm.

You turned to find that he could barely look at you.

“Please.” He looked ashamed to ask, ashamed to be this weak.

He held you by the forearm, and it felt warm where he touched your skin. You only wanted to disappear. “-Tell me why you lied to Cap,” you ordered. It bothered you, like he held something over you.

“I need you close to me.” 

You swallowed, you felt your ears turning red. -the hell was that supposed to mean? Your knees felt a little weak but he didn't stop speaking.

“I know that when it comes down to it, you will end me to protect them,” he confessed.

Your stomach took a sickening turn. That's what he thought, and he was probably right. He knew you were a monster. You pulled your hand out of his grip, “I don't want to hurt anyone,” your voice wavered.

“Then look at me and tell me you haven't killed anyone,” 

You felt a tear roll down your cheek and hit the ground, you still wouldn't face him. He wanted you close so you kill him, this weird hit feeling you got when you were around him, you were alone in feeling it. “Sleep- I’ll be here.” And with that, you became a human restraint, just as you gained a black box coming to Stark tower, you were his.

James realised he had hurt you, again. “Sorry,” he whispered.

 

You were vaguely aware when you felt a pair of strong arms lift you from the chair and onto the bed.

"Are you happy now?" Steve asked Bucky as he had done what he had requested and moved you from the spine bending position you held in the chair.

"No," he sighed, the forever frown stayed where it was. He looked over to you sleeping peacefully beside where he sat, a piece of your hair had fallen in your eyes, he had wanted to move it, but between Steve being there and not able to touch you again after last night -he didn't. “She woke me from a dream last night and I-" he grimaced, not able to look Cap in the eye. He had hurt Steve’s friend and then, he called you a murderer- “I just don't think it's such a good idea me being here.”

"Look at her now, there is no signs of anything." He felt a little guilty defending him like that, but thought he knew you well enough that he didn't think you would hold it against him, you wouldn't even let Bruce apologise after planting a tree in your stomach at park across the street.

"It doesn't mean I didn't hurt her." He bit into his own lip, to treat a girl in such a way? He was a disappointment to himself. You would never trust him after what he had done; after it happening twice, he could feel it, you called it even but that didn't mean you'd forget. He would never trust himself either. This also made you the best to watch over him. If things went ary, he could count on you to finish it, Steve would never. 

"-She looks like Paul Baker- is there any relation? I mean she-" no, even Steve didn't know that and he had promised- to take it to the grave. You were both strong, to what extent he had no idea, but it took months for Baker to get over the bullet wound in his shoulder, he was arrogant enough to go along with the training regimen anyway with a sling and all, beating everyone else at it too.

"I'm not sure, I would like to think so, but, she has no memory of her childhood and Baker would be almost ninety years old -Bucky..." He would find out one way or another would he? "Baker went M.I.A the day-"

"I know." It came out woefully, he'd interrupted to not hear the full sentence. Paul wouldn't have made it to this era any way- to go out like that. He found himself watching you sleeping soundly all over again. His trip to the museum had been most enlightening- and heartbreaking. But M.I.A didn't always mean death- you could be the grandchild. Baker did speak to him about once having brothers, you could be one of theirs.

There was silence, Rogers didn't know where to start how could he? It had been a lifetime ago.

While avoiding his old friend's eyes Bucky saw a black bag in Steve's arms. "What's that?" He cocked his head slightly, he'd seen you with it before and you threatened him for even mentioning such a thing. 

He remembered a soldier who acted the same about a bag- said it was a family heirloom. You could really be related to Baker, it could have been passed down. His heart jumped high for a moment. Paul must have made it out, lived a life, he hoped it was a happy one.

"Oh that, I'm not quite sure, I just wouldn't touch it or she might kill you," Steve gave a smile before putting it next to you where you must have sensed it close and wound yourself around it like a momma cat to her kitten.

Rogers had said it nice enough but Bucky figured you might actually go through with the killing, he would have to be wary of that bag he gave a loud swallow. "Do you remember Robert?" It just came to his mind, his memories were often muddled around, he often couldn't tell the real from the fake, the before and after.

"Yes, I liked that cat," which was saying something because he was much more of a dog person, he was a simple orange tabby with simple wants. He was loved by the entire street including a little girl, "remember when little Becca smuggled him into the cinema?"

"We didn't realise the poor thing was in that bag until it jumped out mid show," there was vague smile on his face but it wasn't complete. "That old thing always seemed to come back, just showed up on the back step the next day."

A frowned pulled at Roger's brow, "I missed you Buck, I really, really did." He should have gone looking for him, he shouldn't have had to go through all of that.

"I know what you're thinking," and James Barnes found himself looking at you again. "I spent time at the museum when I was on my own, you couldn't save me Stevie, you were as frozen as I was." He was somber for a moment, "You're a punk," James remembered.

"Jerk," came out automatically from Steve’s mouth. After all that had happened he smiled even if he didn't yet feel it's happiness.

 

* * *

 

 

You often stuck your head in James’ hospital room, more than you probably should, you tried to chuck it up to fascination and not this drugged feeling you got in his prescience. You had set up your laptop in there and it was cycling through Disney movies, you neglected to tell him it was harbouring a bomb within, you only hoped he wouldn't try and attack it. 

Bucky had come from a time where Disney was just getting off its feet, it was incredible to see how things had grown. He tried to stay impassive and neutral, every now and again a true glare came across his face, but colours kept appearing in ways he couldn't imagine. For the longest time he had forgotten this world had its beautiful aspects too.

“You look like you're enjoying yourself,” you interrupted look of wonder.

He cleared his throat and shut his smile down. “-yeah,” he stuttered.

You glanced at the screen, it only made sense the winter soldier would enjoy watching snow. “That's one of my favourites,” you said awkwardly, rocking on the balls of your feel. “Any way- I'll get back to-” the book you were reading and the weights you were lifting, there wasn't much more for you, you might draw something or try out your recent hobby of sewing.

“You- don't have to go,” he rushed, sitting up. “-you said it was one of your favourites.” He gestured to the laptop.

You tensed for a moment, this man had that effect on you, your gut pulled replaying in your head that he was asking you to stay. But your expression softened, there was only one reason why he wanted you around to watch him. “I'm not going to kill you Sergeant.” You passed off simply.

It didn't go amiss to him that you decided to call him Sergeant. He watched you for a moment, “I hope you never have to,” he referred once again to the watching chair. “And my name is Bucky.”

You frowned, “that's what I said,” you came to sit despite yourself.

The man on the bed looked at you curiously.

 

“That's where you are Princess,” Banner was doing his rounds, he feigned surprise but James Barnes’ room was the first place he looked.

Squinted at the man. “Not you too! Princess? Really?” You felt betrayed, you thought he might be one of few that were on your side against the pet name. Your ears felt a little warm when you stole a look at Barnes, the name somehow felt more embarrassing in front of him.

James was looking stoic as ever, you could never tell what he was thinking, he didn't say a lot, even less when others were around that weren't Steve or you.

“Everyone calls you that behind your back,” he defended.

You hid your face in your hands. None of them fear you in the way that they should. “Do you need me?”

“Actually I came here because I brought you both your dinners,” it was getting late and neither of you showed up to the lounge. As a doctor, he couldn't let the two of you starve, and he thought it good to get a sneaky check up in.

You hadn't realised the time, there was one movie, then there was the next and the one after. There were moments you watched Bucky and not the movie to see if he had any reactions, he looked most stoic. “Thank you Bruce,” you smiled.

“I missed you at sunset _____,” he spoke placing a tray in front of you.

Banner and yourself usually sat in your zen garden on the fourteenth floor during sunset, burning calming oils and raking patterns in the sand. It's a moment to think and chill out for the day, there were times he delved into being a different kind of doctor to you. “Sorry, time got away from me,” you mused.

Bucky noted that your voice went up an octave when speaking to the doctor, and you smiled at him cutely, where when addressing himself you avoided his gaze between glares. It bothered him, made sense though -considering.

Bruce placed the other tray in front of Bucky before looking under his shirt at the bandages on his ribs. “Everything looks in order James, you'll heal up quite nicely,” he spoke in his usual calm manner giving you a discreet nod. “As for the arm you'll have to get Tony or our resident Princess here to look at it,”

You weren't sure you should be the one to fix it as you had broke it in the first place- or did that give you more reason to?

“You two enjoy your dinner together,” he nodded a goodbye, and for a moment he had a sly look in his eye.

You paused midway through pulling the cloche off. You looked up at Bruce but he was already gone. -Did he have to word it like that? You looked up at the Sergeant and he was staring at you. Quickly you attended to your food once more.

By now James was noticing that you had double the portion size that he had and a large cup of supplements. Bucky cleared his throat- “what- are these?” He cocked his head. Thus far he had been giving simple foods like muesli and fruit- he'd never seen these before.

“-tacos,” you stated quietly drooling, no matter how much you ate at lunch you were always ready for dinner. Not to mention the Stark kitchen always got it right.

The man of the forties was confused, they boiled things mostly in his time at his luckiest he once unknowingly charmed a woman with wealth who took him out for pizza.

Your cheeks were puffed out full of spiced meaty goodness, “Mexican,” you mumbled through mouthfuls, “very good,”

If anyone else offered him food he might be wary, but you hadn't any regard for manners, you were all too transparent. Attempting the taco his world seemed to start rotating on a different axel. You weren't wrong, they were very good.

 

Bucky came to a halt at the sight of five small pills to the side of his tray, he eyed you discreetly, you had your lips around a thick shake.

Not discreet enough. “-Didn't want to take them myself,” you were watching him as he was trying to figure out how to ditch them without you noticing. “They will help you heal.” And you just figured out Banner’s ploy, you were the supplement poster girl, who else was there to talk him into them.

“-used to take them in Hydra.” He picked one up to look at on its own.

You felt a little cold at the mention of his old employers. “Their ambitions are a little different to the avengers. They just want you to be healthy.”

He didn't like how you'd said ‘they’. He still looked unconvinced.

You gave him a blunt stare from the end of his bed. “If you don't want do it for yourself- do it for Steve, and for those who care for you. ‘Your life is not your own, but those you've met and who you will meet’” You sipped your foul shake some more. “Rogers told me that once,”

He thought for a second, “You love him don't you?” Bucky spoke off handedly.

You were a little stunned for the moment hearing of love, you swallowed thickly. But you suppose, “-I love them all.” You stood up and passed pills onto him, and sighed, “even Tony Stark,”

He envied that trust and wondered what it was like to be in your circle of love. He took the pills from you silently.

 

* * *

 

 

Next you ran into Bucky Barnes or any of the other Avengers you were bench pressing a hellish amount of weight, you'd made yourself scarce for a while, enjoying your own company. Most of the Avengers had other things to attend to so you realised what it was like to be alone again.

“Shouldn't someone be spotting you?” You saw Steve folding his arms over his wide chest from the corner of your eye.

“I thought,” you heaved, “you- were out,” you pushed the bar once more before returning it to its place. Steve was out most of the time himself, apparently Rumlow had made a full recovery and was out for vengeance, you wouldn't mind a little of that yourself. When he wasn't there, he was with Bucky. The lie you were going with was creating a wedge between you that he couldn't see. A mirror took up one wall on the north side, you were rather bedraggled sitting up, covered in sweat.

Beside Steve you noticed Bucky looking out of place, his arm still dangling.  His cheeks didn't seem so sunken, his eyes seemed brighter and some fuzz was returning to his cheeks. His hand looked in working order once more. “Here to do some lifting?” You wanted to hide a bit, you were used to not looking your best in front of the soldier, you caught him looking at you in the mirror. He could only be disturbed, you looked like a sweaty Neanderthal.

“I was showing Bucky around, but sure, I could do some lifting,” a competitive nature came over Steve, it had been a while since he had someone on par with himself.

“The little ones are over there,” you pointed with a thumb and a smirk.

Steve playfully narrowed in on you.

Those little ones didn't seem enough, even in his current state it felt like an insult to point him over there.

“Nat’s been waiting for me in the practise room, so I'll leave you two to it,” you gave a nod before escaping Steve's competitive vibes.

 

"Did you want to go Princess?" She called, Natasha was more affectionate toward you than she'd ever say, and you were her favourite punching back- she could go all out on you, and not injure, too much.

Your eyes slitted to the woman with the red mop and sexy sheen on her skin from her warm up, she was candy to any eyes that witnessed. You wondered what would Bucky think of her. You were already feeling a little down in the dumps about yourself with your flushed cheeks and your fly away hair. 

Bucky followed Rogers, still with a slight limp in his swagger and a mighty daze on his face.

“You boys joining us for a brawl?” Natasha seemed to not even pay you any attention in your efforts to knock her to the ground, noticing when the two entered the room.

“No, no,” Steve was now supporting his own breakout of sweat, “the weight room was enough for me,” he slapped the whacked-out Bucky on the back. 

James hadn't even been able to do more than five reps of the smallest one, the half tonne, without his chromed arm in full effect. And there you were- with your eleven tonnes. He wasn't even on the spectrum of you, it became miraculous to him that you hadn't decided to squish him like an insect. But the reason why you didn't became evident with Natasha.

You were trying to catch up, but her dodging was too quick, it was like watching a hulking Wile E Coyote and a nimble, red Road Runner. You weren't a fighter.

Rogers lead him to the side of the training room where they could sit, leaning against the wall and watch the two of you spar for a while; you had a sloppier technique, but Nat spent most of her time dodging, wary of your strength, she was quick and when she sees an opening she strikes, and you usually end up on your rump. If Nat ever got the higher ground she was quick to jump you, it's how she overpowered those stronger than her, her thighs had quite the choking abilities.

Her strikes didn't hurt all that much, it was when she went for the more sensitive areas like the face that you body gave way to injury.

Steve couldn't help but see Bucky watching you.

"What is she?" He asked suddenly realising that you would be too busy to have probably hear, vaguely remembering discussing women in this secretive manner in another lifetime. 

"We don't really know," Steve said thinking of the science brothers, they were hiding something- all he got was vague answers, all he knew is; "Banner is quite convinced she is something stronger than all of us," he pondered for a moment it would be nice to know what that is, "It doesn't matter a whole heap what she is, it is who she is,"

Bucky nodded slowly as if hypnotized.

"Buck, we found old Hydra files encoded into Shield ones," he looked to his friend sadly, "they were about you, and what they-" his voice faded

Barnes jumped immeasurably from a sudden  _ whack  _ and you landing on the floor near them, was that really okay for you to do?

"Bucky I am so sorry," Steve said for what felt like the millionth time.

James didn't like the apologies, he didn't like the pity. Especially when people wouldn't accept his. "-and you think I'm not? Saying sorry to hundreds of corpses doesn't make them less dead." His mood suddenly darkened.

"That's not fair, it wasn't you," The Captain reassured.

"I know, but I still did it," he said darkly.

The conversation was cut very short by a sudden yelp and crack. You didn't really think you'd hit her, you didn't think you could she was too quick for that. But you wanted to- you were in the midst of battle- you had wanted to hurt her, Bucky was just sitting over there- you had wanted to hurt him too. "Shit, Nat!" You had blocked, pushed her defences open and delivered a swift kick- a swift, rib-cracking kick. What were you thinking? It was just training, yet you fought to injure. "Cap, I got her!" You cried, coming to sit by where she laid on the blue support mat.

"It's okay ______," she smiled through labored breaths, "it's pay back from that time I broke your ribs," she chuckled.

"-doesn't matter if I lose a rib or two," you frowned, you had been getting ahead of yourself, you had been too over confident. How could you be so stupid. None of that mattered. You looked at your hands, you thought back to a red haired sixteen year old boy.

"Your nose is bleeding again." She chuckled.

"You know this is nothing." You didn't even want to touch her to get her to the med bay. "Steve get her to Banner," you said sadly.

"Oh, I've been meaning to see the good doctor," she gave you a slight wink she was trying to play off pain with humour and you knew it. You shouldn't feel bad, you were growing, but now you look to be retreating. She would have made a joke of things if it were reversed and it has been before.

You knew she had a thing for Banner, it still didn't lessen the fact that you had broken a couple of her ribs. Never had you actually hurt any of the Avengers up until now, save winding Clint on your first day. 

Steve messed up your hair "It's okay Princess, it means you're getting better," bending down to pick up Nat at her protest that she could walk.

"He is right ______, good job, ow." She gave you a thumbs up from Steve's arms.

You just sat there listening to Nat tell Steve she was fine, and his footsteps fading, you had to control yourself, perhaps you should only spar with Cap from now on? Even then... You brought your knees to your chest. Seriously, what had you thought was going to happen?  _ Monster _ . You could taste copper, you could only imagine what it looked like. You had just about forgotten Bucky was still around until you heard him come up beside you and you jumped a little. You didn't want to touch another human, what if you squished him?

He sat next to you, with nothing else to do. "Your nose really is bleeding, you know?"

You gave a sigh, and straightened it with two hands and a  _ crunch. _

Bucky looked at you wide eyed remembering your shoulder doing that when dislocated during a torture session. “Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

You grimaced. "You should ask her if she is okay, not the-” you stuttered, prepared to say something else, “-person who did it to her."

"You didn't mean to-"

"And yet it happened," you spoke over him

Of all the defiant women. Still, he couldn't help but think of the discussion he'd just had with Steve. It was like he was currently arguing with himself.

You sighed, "Sorry," you straightened yourself up. “I think I'll head back to my room,” where you should never have left in the first place.

“Wait,” he stood to chase after you, “watch a movie with me.” He all but demanded.

“Perhaps another time Sergeant,” you didn't want to see another person for the rest of the day.

When Bucky realised you weren't stopping he seized and arm of yours and forced you to look at him. 

“What?” You frowned, hadn't he seen how much of a danger you were to be around?

He silently lift the hem of his borrowed grey sweatshirt and wiped at the blood covering your mouth and nose, cleaning you.

You statued in surprise. Your face became warm, this was the Bucky you'd heard about from the forties, offering up his shirt to wipe the stains from your face-still you glimpsed the bandages you had left on him.

"-Couldn't stand to see blood on -your face,” he became quiet.

You assumed that could only mean he still saw Baker when he was looking at you. You besmeared his good face.

“That movie?” He had asked it as a question, but in no way was it. He looked at you with those eyes, and trained one of your arms to link with his and pulled you with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long~ I rewrote it I think four times before I was happy  
> I wanted there to be a dynamic without it being too confusing  
> is it confusing?  
> Lord I hope not  
> THank you for the 135 kudos and your kind words  
> but most importantly~~ thank you for reading!!!!


	13. Side quest

"With the Black Ranger injured, we must deploy the Pink." Stark looked intense leaning two hands on the steel table in front of him. The briefing room lit up with multiple holoscreens active.

You looked remorsefully at Natasha who was all bandaged up by Banner's side, she waved it off again but you could never take her forgiveness. "-I-I have to stay here for Bucky," you only partially lied, Steve said he seemed to perk up around you. You were sure he was only saying that but you just couldn't attend your first mission now, you had hurt a friend, imagine what you'd do to a complete stranger? Would it be like that time you maimed three Hydra agents in the underpass? Would you feel remorse anymore? You were losing your humanity. You should stay in the tower.

“Come now Princess, he'll be fine, we all have heard from the Capcicle on how you saved Bucky Barnes from a team of thugs, this should be simple work for you, unless- it didn't really happen-?” Stark eyed you meaningfully.

He knew what you did, of course he knew. You didn't understand why it had to be you and not the numerous other Avengers not on probation, "I-if it really has to be me, it will have to wait." You needed time, the bleak darkness within you was whirling- last time this happen you attacked Bucky. There was not telling what you were capable of now.

"It can't wait, people are dying, by the hands of my own weapons!" Tony suddenly raised his voice, wearing a much more serious expression than he had been moments ago.

Every now and again you could see the real Tony under the Stark facade. These were his weapons, of his own creation, killing people. You had been the one to injure Nat, you should do this for her. You sighed in a defeated manner. "You're right, this will be my first mission, I should be happy I am finally doing something around here."

"That's the right idea freeloader." He smiled, settling back into his mask.

From behind you the wide shouldered Steve put a hand on your head. "You'll do fine Probee, I'll watch over Bucky, what is the worst that can happen? It's only two days." He shrugged, he didn't even have to know you were gone.

"Okay, the rest of you out, I want to speak details with my apprentice." Tony dismissed, leaving you with his trimmed facial haired self.

Cap gave you a playful punch in his way out and Clint gave a bit of the thumbs up. That was his little baby; off to destroy people, he almost had to dry a tear.

Steve did notice when you didn't punch him back, was it really a good idea to send you out like this? Or at all, the you had only been out by yourself once since the Hydra affair. Lately he had to admit he had been giving his attention to Bucky over you- how were you going? Remorsefully he hadn't asked you- and you would be attending your own mission tomorrow before he wakes up.

"So this is essentially our target; Blake Waternoose, underground he likes to refer to himself as 'the spider'" Tony obviously found the nickname rather dumb because he scoffed at it loudly while he pointed to the screen where there was a bigger man that looked less of a spider and more of a hog with watery, little eyes, he looked like a slimier Winston Churchill but with these beady black eyes like a rat and a disturbingly thin black mustache.

You flinched at the word 'target' you weren't really going to have to kill his guy were you?

"No, we won't be going on any murder sprees," he looked to your paling face. "He was a big benefactor for Shield, especially on project insight, so we can assume; he is a part of Hydra. Naturally this is nothing we can prove, it's all just smoke and mirrors, however, I have come to believe he has bought out the people I hired to have my weapons destroyed last year and is simply giving them away to terrorists and extremists." Hydra loved to find peace in chaos, they weren't making profit from this venture, only death.

"How did you find that out?" You piped up, wanting to be sure that this really was the guy just in case things did go south and you actually have to - hurt him.

"I pulled a thread on a jumper, and it all came loose. I had to go straight to the people using the weapons, and I can be rather persuasive if I have to be."

You didn't want to know if that conversation ended in money or blood. Rogers often said Stark would do near anything for his idea of what peace is.

"Either way, I have been added to an event's list that is being held at his place of residence and you will be my date for the evening, the general plan is for me to distract him with my genius, because let's face it, you aren't exactly people magazine's poster child,” Ideally he had wanted Romanoff to do the distracting with her silver tongue but this would have to do. “-while you find some sort of incriminating evidence in his study, and for the icing on the cake; I'd like you to set up a bug." If everything was done above board, the news will catch wind and he would became most everyone’s favourite hero again.

 

After going through floor plans of the quite frankly, massive manor, and your false identity, it was rather late. You would leave in Stark's private jet early in the morning so he sent you away to your bedroom.

You intended to go to bed, you really did but instead found your legs taking you on a detour. You found yourself outside a suite that was not your own on the residential floor. You hadn't seen him for a while, you'd locked yourself away, dragged out only by something Tony had said was important.

What did you want here? Why were you floating like this? It was this feeling you got around him, this intense longing to be next to him, the way he looked at you atop the hospital bed came to mind. He wanted to eat you. You swallowed.

Was he okay in there? Alone? If you were going to see him before you left- this would be the only way. You huffed. There must be something seriously wrong with you.

You touched the panel for the door’s release. “Bucky- I'm leaving in the mor-” you started your excuse before looking up, but when you did you took in the Winter Soldier breathing peacefully upon his stark-mattress.

The only light in his room at that time was from the city's scape behind bulletproof glass that was customary for all windowed rooms.

Your legs lead you to the side of his bed.

When Banner found out that Bucky had been leaving the ward, he decided it best he have his own room on the residential floor. His room had only one thing differing his from yours and that was a large one way mirror he didn't know about.

His expression was all too relaxed as you sat beside him quietly. And you'd be damned if the sides of his mouth weren't slightly upturned.

Your hands burned to touch him. Forgetting about Romanoff momentarily in the face of the peacefully kipping Bucky Barnes, you brushed his long brown hair gently aside. He looked happy enough for now, Cap was right, it was only two days, it's not like he actually needed you. Still, you didn't know why you had done it, but you leaned down and brushed your lips against his forehead.

You were sorry you weren't a better person to look after him, because that's what you wanted to do for the sleeping Bucky- keep him safe. But the safest place from him, was away from you.

He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep that sounded something along the lines of 'Baker'.

That alone brought you back to your reality, the one where you had mindlessly kiss some sleeping guy you didn't know all that well on the head. The same that saw a dead close-friend everything he looked at you.

You would chuck James’ want for his friend up to missing him- but it took a little more than comradery to call for someone in your sleep.

These strange feelings you denied yourself from having swirled momentarily. Not jealousy- it couldn't be, or disappointment, no- he could swing any way he like it didn't affect you. Did it? And it certainly didn't affect you that you looked like the man he may have once had relations with. You shook your head from the odd thoughts. What were you doing here? You should stay far, far away from this man. He was dangerous for you.

 

So this was what it was like to be in an airplane? A jet no less. You didn't like it. Not one bit.

"You could try sitting down?" Tony offered from the tan, leather, squishy chair he had his posterior in along with the tall glass of champagne dangling daintily from his hand.

You had taken to pacing the length of the air vehicle, naturally, being Tony's aircraft it was rather luxurious, soft carpets, reclining chairs, various screens for entertainment. But you could see so many things wrong with this situation. What if you accidentally punch a window? Made hole in the floor?

"The science is sound, it's much harder to bring a plane to the ground from the sky as it is taking off," Stark shrugged smartly.

He thought that was what you were afraid of? "This little iron tub isn't build up to holding something like me, what if I break it?" There would be a vacuum, shortly followed by dropping to the earth at dizzying speeds then; _splat._ Though you might be okay, Tony would look like a half-defrosted, strawberry slushie. It would be as easy as tearing a hole in a tissue.

"And just what are you?" He rose an eyebrow, he wasn't even worried. It wasn't a question he'd posed to you before, how much did you know? Were you faking ignorance? He wouldn't rule out anything.

"I'm -" a monster? A freak? A hero? "An author," you sighed, your clammy hands were shaking again, you brushed them through your hair anxiously, you didn't shake anymore, why was this happening? Was the air thinner? Was it just the recycled air? It was making you feel sick.

"Tell me author, have you broken anything in Stark tower before?" He asked muffled by his champagne glass.

“You saw what I did to Romanoff- and to Bucky,”  your brows drew.

“An aircraft is hardly going to punch you first,” he smirked, he knew he was right about the Bucky situation. “Within the tower what inanimate objects have you broken?”

You remember purposely screwing with some doors, it was Stark that had ruined your blanket, not you. Banner had you blow out a window on your little renovation project on the fourteenth floor. You just looked at him dumbly, he knew the answer to his own question.

"Well then, why do you think you'd start breaking things now?" He asked lazily.

Although you knew he was right, it was the fact that you could that scared you, you slowly took the seat across from him, letting out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. You thought of good things, banner said remembering all that is good in the world calms him easily, he lists and categorises them too, you mind wandered to the fact that Steve Rogers could still pin you and then drifted to the way James Buchanan Barnes looks when he is asleep. You found yourself slightly calmer, though it really shouldn't be, had that image just become a guilty pleasure?

If you sat in this chair and didn't move how could you possibly screw anything up? "I don't see why we had to take this, you could have just used your suit." You were sure you could hang on for dear life, it would have been quicker, and much more pleasant.

"Well that wouldn't be too inconspicuous, would it? Me, coming to do a false business deal and just so happening to be wearing the suit," he sniped sarcastically. "You need to get your head in the game, this is very important to me," he said more seriously.

There were few things in this world important to Tony Stark and he acted like there was even less than that, you cocked your head to the side. It wasn't the first time they found his weapons in the Middle East, you could guess it wouldn't be the last.

Stark noticed you were studying him like that old green mustang you were working on together. "Look, before 'Iron Man' I lived my life oblivious to the happenings in my company, I just cared that it supplied me with the money to do whatever I liked, my ignorance cost so many people their lives. I created those weapons. I killed those people."

You were stunned at his sudden forthcoming. "You have to know that wasn't your fault, it was the work of your company-"

"Whatever you believe Princess, you still blame yourself for things others would insist aren't your fault so how could I take your word for it?" His dark eyes were intense on yours.

Suppose it was a little like lettuce calling the cabbage green? It was human to be hypocritical. "I don't think it's your doing," you said more quietly not able to look into those eyes any longer.

"Either way, I stopped it all, all the production, I wanted them destroyed. Yet my biggest regret has resurfaced itself." He looked off, out into the clouds.

If you were to help him finish this, if he really was trusting you with this, you would give it your all. But at the back of your mind you couldn't help but think of your place amongst the books back in the tower.

 

Nine hours was cruel for a first flight, Stark had gloated that your average plane would have made it there in eleven in a half hours, neglecting to realise, it was still: Nine. Fucking. Hours. Tony had pushed some champagne onto you for the nerves and you both learnt something peculiar. You couldn't get drunk, or at least, three bottles of the best sparkling champagne was enough for you to want to live in the jet's toilet from over consumption of liquids but wasn't strong enough to get you drunk. The bored Iron Man started to treat it like an experiment giving you more and more with that interesting glint in his eye.

 

So this was Egypt? Tony had explained that Mr. Waternoose built his 'palace' about an hour away from the centre of Cairo along the Red Sea, it was probably because it was close to the action of terrorists without being dangerously so. He wanted to watch; the sick bastard.

The jet circled Cairo in its last hours of daylight, from the aerial view, things were a lot more green that what you had come to expect from what you'd heard of Egypt. Cairo looked like a fabulous meeting of two worlds; the ancient and the modern, there were great skyscrapers beside stone archways and what you assumed to be temples.

When the jet landed you were more than happy to be out of that tub and away from the creepy man that kept on feeding you alcoholic beverages. But you weren't here to sightsee as Tony was quite clear on, once finally bracing the heat of unrecycled, Egyptian air you were ushered to a hotel room. All you saw of the city was through windows of the plane, a van and the view from the room.

"Maybe I'll take you for real one day." Tony suggested looking at your face lighting up at the sight of the night's cityscape by the large glass window.

You gave him a grin, imagine, the Avengers holidaying by the pyramids! You thoughts drifted slowly to Bucky as you imagined what each of them would do in the situation; Clint would play life guard as you swam in the seas forcing sunscreen on you, Romanoff would rock a bikini  regardless of what she says about that scar she has, having to beat local boys off with a stick, Tony would tell scary stories of mummies while entering tombs, you'd probably hide behind the big wall that was Steve, Banner would look at hieroglyphs just muttering words like 'fascinating' and Bucky... You just hoped he wouldn't break a nose from a sphinx, you hoped the same for yourself in fact. Was he okay back there? Of course he was, he had Cap. You shook your head from the thoughts. "So, who is sleeping where?" You asked suddenly. To keep up appearances Tony had gotten a honeymoon suite. One bed. One, big, soft, welcoming bed.

"You get the couch Princess." He had already decided without even discussing.

"What! No!" You eyed the couch in front of 'the bed', you know? The huge and glorious bed? With like the fifty shades of pillows. Naturally the suite was upper class, the floors were a polished stone, the ceiling was high, the bed's frame was made of a deep wood with pristine white sheets, the colour scheme was of pastel yellows and browns, it fitted the landscape perfectly. Still, you'd much rather that huge bed to yourself than the brown leather couch.

"I'm sorry who is paying for this vacation?" He asked in his usual sarcastic manner.

You narrowed your eyes at the man.

"Unless you want to sleep in the same bed with me?" Tony's brows did as only Tony's brows could to do.

"Agh, you're such a creep!" You walked over to the couch and fell face forward into it dramatically.

 

You woke in a cold sweat, the single light sheet was tangled around you, restricting, choking. The warm night air of Cairo hadn't asked for anything else. You felt sick. You felt the bile at the back of your throat. Your face felt wet from tears your don't remember crying.

You freed yourself from the sheet. It was okay- but where was the orb? The tablet? Were they safe? They had to be, or else... Or else you didn't know. That dream couldn't possibly come true could it? You didn't have a track record of dreams coming true so why did you think it would this time? You felt gross, sticky and cold all over.

You looked to Tony, he was out like a light in the softest bed in the world. You needed someone to talk to. You had a new phone because you had thrown the last one away out of distrust during the time of shield, almost out of punishment for the lack of faith you put in his secureline Tony had set up for you with the last, he had given you a pink sparkly one. You felt about twelve years old.

You looked up the time zones, three thirty nine in the morning was about ten pm in Manhattan, someone would be awake. You dialled. You almost thought it would ring out.

"Hey ______, is everything okay?" Clint's voice was worried straight from the get go. Was he always concerned? It must be exhausting.

You sighed in to the receiver. Yeah, you had called, to say what? "It's nothing, I just-" called you because I had a bad dream? You were being so childish. "-how is everything back there?"

With that there was somewhat of a pause. Should he tell you? Wouldn't it just worry you? "There is nothing exciting going on around here, I bet Egypt is at least twelve times as exciting," He was lord of lying, it was part of his job, however you knew his mannerisms now. He only hoped he had got it passed you.

Had you been on top of your game you might have picked up on it. You were quiet on your end, studying the shapes in the polished marble flooring in the faint light of the city.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He prompted after a while.

"I-I just had that dream again." You stumbled. This was Barton, you trusted above all else, if you were ever going to tell someone, it would be him. Even if you felt like a great big dork doing so,

" _That one_? Do they have milk in the fridge?" He was right, you should start there.

You padded over on the welcomingly cool flooring, and pour yourself a glass of overpriced milk from the mini fridge, eh, Tony would handle it. "The milk here tastes different," you observed. "Not as sweet, which is weird because I didn't even think milk was sweet in the first place," you rambled.

"-So you want to tell me what it was about?" Barton probed again.

Would it help? Would it freak him out? You drank deeply from the glass again. "-every time I have that dream I see this- blue man with like, red eyes. He just sits there laughing. When I see what he is laughing at, it's the same, th-the world freezing." Your glass was empty so you turned to drinking straight from the carton.

Barton was silent sensing you weren't quite finished.

"Entire continents just- people killed mid step, but this time, I saw- everyone." You bit at your lip. It sound stupid when said aloud. A blue man casually freezing the world. It was irrational.

"Everyone?" He asked.

"I saw you all die." You said quietly, felt like throwing up all over again. The number of people you see frozen solid changes time from time, since meeting the Avengers- they became part of the pile.

"It's only a dream, okay, I don't even think you can kill a Hulk," he chuckled to try and lighten your mood, "there is no way we would ever just let the world go like that." He promised his rusty voice softening.

That's what you were afraid of. It didn't feel like a fight they could win.

"Plus, I have seen many things, a blue man isn't one of them. You'll be home again soon, you have nothing to fear." You could feel the warm smile through the phone.

You gave a relieved sigh, he was right. "Is- uh, my bag okay?" You asked more quietly, you didn't want to ask, but you felt you had to.

"Yes," he was proud you entrusted him with such a thing, he had a one up on Steve. "I have it with me in fact." He chuckled. "Now, if I am not wrong, it's in the a.ms over there, so you'd better get some sleep if you want to do a good job tomorrow." You could feel him almost waggling his finger at you.

"Yes Mum," you teased. You had been right to call Clint, he had made you feel infinitely better.

"I'll see you tomorrow night then, or will it be morning?" Barton asked. He was a little anxious to have you back in more ways than one.

"I haven't the faintest, all I know is I dread it. I hate planes now -unrelatedly though, turns out I can out drink Tony Stark," you smirked.

"You've been drinking?! With Stark?" He adopted that parenting tone once more.

"Ah- yes," should you have said that? You probably shouldn't have said that. "Anyway, I am like super tired now so I better go." You hurried before stifling a fake yawn.

"Get some sleep, we shall talk more on this when you get home."

Oh, shit.

"Love you _____," he ended.

"Love you too Barton," you replied naturally. It was something you had only voiced to James, but sure, you loved him, you loved all of those idiots, you might even have a little bit of Tony in your heart. It was odd, in the beginning, you didn't think you'd ever let anyone close again. Now you didn't think you could exist without every one of them around you.

Speak of the devil and he may appear, or in this case, he will eavesdrop greatly.

Moment later you receive a text, well, less of a text and more of a photo.

Barton has the bag around his front like you would a baby holster, he was wearing it like a proud mother. He had been doing it all day just to show off to Cap how much you trusted him.

You could help but stifle a laugh. Yes, _safe and sound._

 

"You want me to wear that?" You eyed the dress. That thing would show off just about your entire back, that thing was a pastel pink, that thing was satin... That thing was worth more than your entire wardrobe.

"Well, yeah, it's a big fancy to-do, and the Pink Power Ranger needs her armour." Tony explained while still holding up the dress. He hadn't brought up the dream that he had heard about last night, in fact he was coming up with his own conclusions as to what these things might mean. Yet again he wasn't disappointed in the fact that he had kept you around.

Of course the thing was pink, he really was selling this Power Rangers thing home wasn't he? "Then I suppose you'll be wearing red then?" You asked raising a brow.

He just gave a smirk before pointing to the tie he would soon be adorning.

Indeed, it was very red. Your eye slitted at him while you out your hand out to retrieve the dress.

 

Shit was tight. You looked down, your boobs were right there had they suddenly gotten like two cup sizes bigger? This dress- left your cleavage there just about for the entire world to see. This was very different to your usual clothes. You put up your hair in a style that worked for it, suppose you looked upperclass? But your cleavage made you feel like one of Tony's hussies he used to have follow him. Perhaps that was the point? Seriously pink though? You had nothing against pink but this shade was a little- Eugh the exact same as the pink ranger’s. You came out of the bathroom with a dusting of makeup that Nat had lent you. Maybe you did feel a little bit special? Except for the x-rated cut of the neckline, it was a dress fit for a princess. You had heard every little girl liked to dress like one. You didn't remember ever being a little girl, suppose this was your time to shine. Was this a guilty pleasure? Probably.

Tony stood with his arms crossed, appraising his date for the night. "Turn," he ordered like he knew anything about anything that was about fashion.

You sighed, you weren't doing that, you weren't a caged bear for his entertainment. You gave him a glare.

"Come on, humour me." He pouted.

And so you turned so he could see the back and yes, most of your back was indeed shown.

"Take the glasses off." He ordered some more.

"Hey, no! I like my glasses!" You exclaimed, you hadn't signed up for this.

"So do I, take them off, rich people get laser eye surgery, and they wear contacts," he reasoned, not to mention you'd stick out like a sore thumb with those thick rims.

Gah! This was stupid. You took them off.

"Turn back around."

When your turned around you saw a phone in his hand that was notably the same shade as your dress. "Woah, what are you doing?!" You asked with big eyes.

"Sending to all contacts." He replied nonchalantly.

"No, no, no, -no!" You reprimanded with a scornful look, attempting to retrieve the phone. You now feel even more of a dweeb for finding guilty pleasure in wearing a princess dress.

"Remember that time you ripped up a blanket and sent feathers flying?"

"No! Do you remember ripping up _my_ blanket?" You returned.

"-and sent," he replied smugly.

"You're an ass." You replied.

"Go put on your shoes, we're leaving." He said arrogantly.

You forgot shoes were a thing. Damn people with their little sensitive feet. You preferred to feel the earth under your soles, you glared at the flats as if they were the very bane of your existence. At least they weren't heels- you probably couldn't walk in those contraptions.

 

"Nervous?" He asked watching your hands playing in your lap as you sat in the back of a black van approaching the house of a man known for having something to do with the deaths of hundreds. Nice van this; Stark had it sent to Cairo ahead of you, you were marvelling at it yesterday when it took you to the hotel. It was piloted just as his jet was; by Jarvis.

You were probably going to screw this up for everyone. You had combat training. You didn't have training in covert operations. Hell, you weren't even that great at lying. You wouldn't have to speak much- it would be okay.

Your mind wondered to your favourite things as Banner had taught you. You remembered a movie you wanted to share with Bucky. You didn't even recognise yourself before you watched that movie, it changed your worldview in a monumental level, would it be the same for him?

You stilled your hands, slow deliberate movements, a show of money and upperclassmenship. You straightened your back and dropped your shoulders. "Not one bit." You lied to the best of your ability, if you couldn't do a fake smile you could at least deadpan.

"Remember," Stark started.

You gave a secret smile. That movie.

"It's just a search of his computer, some files and hide the listening bug. The bug itself will transmit straight to Jarvis, as will the usb I gave you, we won't have to come back for them." The little recorder and code cracker was hidden in a bag just a pink as your dress.

You nodded, you knew what you had to do. It was doing it that was the problem.

"Whatever happens in there we will come out on top." He promised.

Whatever floated his boat, it wasn't your life that was on the line here, still your eyes came to linger on a pair of bracelets on his wrists. Indeed, you would come out on top, whether or not with bloodied hands was on you.

 

The van rolled up to a large gate in a tall wall that no one could see over, the brick fence seemed to span forever in the middle of nowhere. Literally, nowhere, it was the sandy Egypt you had come to know from the media without even a pyramid in sight, you thought this place was supposed to be by the Red Sea.

You had seen this thing's floor plans, just what did it look like behind that wall? Tony rolled down his window and spoke with the two men guarding either side of the large doors. Tony had said he was going to discuss a business proposal with Mr. Waternoose at the gathering. And being the disgusting, greedy creature Blake Waternoose was; he jumped at the idea. How thick could you get? Letting an Avenger into your home while stealing their weapons from behind their back? It almost seemed too easy and it made you nervous, but this was Tony, he wouldn't over look something like a trap, he was far too smart.

After the gates opened you were met with a drive way. You had never seen such a driveway. It vastly contrasted the sands of outside, there was greenery, _everywhere_. It looked like a tropical island all of a sudden. And it went on forever. This is why you hadn't seen even a slight of the ocean, you were driving straight for it now.

Tony offered you an arm as you exited the vehicle, you felt like another person stepping out of it letting your inner self coil inside, afraid of what was to come. A rush of the ocean's breeze hit you in the face. Waternoose had it made here, what could he possibly want from all the dealings? he has everything he could ever want. He must literally sweat money. The manor was large and pristine white, was made of some sort of stone and had many steps leading to it. There were pillars and open windows, the ground was a polished marble. You could have seen such a palace in a Disney movie about a boy that wished to become a prince to win the heart of a woman. If you thought Tony had been overcompensating with his tower, he now looked like he was being modest in the face of this guy.

A butler with a large, pointed, upturned nose and pompous disposition made himself known as you approached the door. "Are you on the list?" He looked down his nose at you especially.

Your entire facade was crumbling away, you felt about two inches tall under that look of scrutiny. Well, of course you were on the list, how else had you been let in this far? It felt like he was just looking for a reason to be pompous.

Tony pulled you closer to him slightly so that you might get an overpowering waft of his usual cologne. "Tony Stark and this is my date Kimberly-Ann Hart." He showed a gleam of white teeth below that impeccably trimmed-stache.

You wanted to kick him when you remembered the name he'd given you. Kimberly-Ann Hart. The original, first Pink Power Ranger. Stark's disposition for humour would surely be his downfall one day. Was this joke going too far!?

Tony had smiled but you gave the little butler a bored look that said you didn't want to be here. You imagined you could pull this look off more than a smile- not being here was exactly what you wanted to do.

The attitude of the man in front of you changed almost automatically upon hearing the name 'Stark' "Oh yes, of course, Mr. Stark, it is an absolute pleasure. The Waternoose house welcomes you, come right this way and I'll alert my master to your arrival."

That man must have the pooey-ist nose after all that ass kissing he did. What an unrefined thing to think? You were trying to be refined here. You pushed your shoulders back once more to give and air of confidence.

-Still you thought felt some sort of malice behind the butler’s words, were you imagining it? You walked in step with Tony, absolutely silent, not thinking of a word you could say without giving everything away.

Tony walked with his head held high beside you until you came to a large room, it had the same pillars and polished flooring, it had such high ceilings that held a mural of clouds and angels, this man was mixing his historical influences up. There was a staircase on the other side of the room leading to a landing where a fat, rat of a man sat upon a chair above the heads of everyone on the main the floor of which there were many. There were hundreds of people, dressed in clothes you'd guessed might even be more expensive than what you wore currently. You caught the looks of some faces, while their clothes look perfect and crisp, you noticed scars, eye patches, missing facial features, tattoos that probably meant more than you knew, these people didn't do honest work for a living, the women on the arms of men were wearing even less than you currently were.

It was a gathering of criminals, it was a gathering of Hydra. Something felt wrong at the back of your head. But this was Tony, he had this, you probably wouldn't have to do much at all. The guests milled about the floor conversing, others gathered by a large cage that sat below where Waternoose himself did. Was that a tiger? It was thinning terribly, losing its fur even- it was panting horribly. You couldn't hide a small frown. How cruel. You came to grit your teeth slightly.

A jazz band sounded in the background, while a woman was made to dance on a stage adjacent to the steel cage, she herself was chained by the ankle to the stage she danced upon. The little butler with the pointed nose was by his master's side whispering while you stood at the other side of the room, something of a disgusting grin came across his smarmy face while -if you weren't mistaken- he stared directly at you.

A particularly cold looking bald Russian introduced himself as a monocle sat by his right eye. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you mister Stark, I am quite a fan of your work," he eyed Tony's chest for a moment before extending a hand for him to shake. It was almost as if he was intent on stealing the arch-reactor right out of Tony.

Tony was a better man than you because this guy had your skin crawl all over and he still took the hand offered to him.

"My name is Strucker, Baron Strucker, I am a bit of a scientist of sorts myself." He said mysteriously through the thick accent.

"Always a pleasure to meet another like mind." Stark tried his earnest from coming out as bored as he felt around such a man. He hadn't heard of Strucker before, and he probably never would again. Hopefully. He was happily saved by the big nosed, little waiter skittering back on his short legs.

"Master would like to see you now," he extended.

"Again, it was a pleasure mister Stark." Strucker bid adieu.

The way he said it. Eugh. You hoped you would never again meet such a man, there was something of a knowing grin on his face like he held something over you. You followed Stark up the stairs to the open second floor that shared the same ceiling as the first, to where Waternoose sat upon his self proclaimed throne.

Blake stood to accept Tony as if he were family. "Tony Stark, finally we meet." His two sweaty hands that sported sausage fingers shook one of Stark's.

Jabba stood on two legs? And here you were expecting that slimy Hutts slithered with their worm-like bodies. You hoped none of these thoughts could be read on your face. You hoped that bored expression still stood against the small boiling of anger and anguish to be in such a place.

"Of course Mr. Waternoose," Stark gave the best smile he could with such a man attached to one of his hands.

"Shall we talk business in the drawing room?" The not-Hutt offered before eyeing you.

Tony noticed this. "Kimmy, darling, I saw an orderves table back there, what do you say I meet you back there?"

He spoke to you like you were a simpleton, you could only do the same. "Don't take too long," you pouted purposely. "Actually," you turned your attention to the butler, purposefully talking down on him. "You wouldn't be able to show me to the bathroom would you? Seems I had too much champagne in the car,"

"Or course Miss, right this way."

You gave Tony one last look, next time you see him you would have either won or lost.

 

The butler left to attend the ball as you were shown to the closest bathroom, he made you feel like your existence was a hassle. You locked the door behind you and listened for a bit. You were alone. You let out a breath you felt you were holding in the entire time since entering the building. If you remember correctly, the study was on the floor above this, in a corner by the man's bedroom. You left the bathroom quietly, you felt the dress billow out behind you with your long strides. You hurried up steps, you were glad everyone seemed too preoccupied with themselves to care what Tony Stark's date was up to. Waternoose's room had the stench of him through it, it smelt of unwashed, sweaty animal and was as regally upholstered as you'd expect a king's with reds and lavished drapery.

You listened out for something. You hear nothing but perhaps the muffled voices of Stark and Blake on the lower floor. You looked skeptically at the stinky room. There should be a door to the study right there. You sniffed looking for a change in air current. You're kidding. The bookcase? As much as you love the classics, wasn't it a bit cliche to have these things in real life? Then again, what need would a man like him have for a book shelf? You could spend all day looking for that worm's favourite book or you could just- push the stupid thing right out of the way as the hidden door protested greatly. -it revealed exactly what you were looking for.

The study liked mahogany, it was in its shelving, in its desk, in its chair. The man was mixing his cultures again because this was a study you could see the Sherlock Holmes from the books being right at home in this Victorian period study. The scent was a lot less stifling in here, it was evident he didn't come here so often. A computer sat on the desk, it was just a simple model. You fished a small usb from the pick handbag Tony had given you. After booting it you stuck it in the tower and let it do its thing. It was to crack all its safety protocols and download copies of all files and send them straight to Jarvis- personally you didn't envy jarvis to have to go through all of that- God knows what was kept in that computer.  You had a sudden urge to wash your hands. You then went to the shelves for hard copies. There has to be something on the Stark weapons, receipts to offshore accounts, photos of the destruction. Something. Your eyes scanned through quickly. You were finding nothing.

"Found anything good yet Ms. Hart?"

You jumped as your stomach plummeted and met with the ground while your heart literally stopped for a second. You were too busy with the files to even notice the other presence. Mr. Waternoose. Your cover was blown, there was nothing else for you to but put your hand in your bag as if you were doing anything and go plan B. "I-I couldn't resist a secret door." You stammered.

"I'm sure that's true, forgive me if I don't believe you."

You backed up to the mahogany desk slightly and discreetly touched underneath the lip of the desk. If he was here, where was Tony? Oh, no. It was a trap, you should have said something. Blake's entire game plan unfolded in front of you. "Where's my date?" You asked cautiously.

"Do you know what this event is Ms. Hart?"

You shook your head dumbly still in the shock of it all.

"It's my birthday today, I thought I'd gift myself Tony Stark's head on a platter." His laugh was slurred by thick, sweaty cheeks.

Now you just felt down right sick.

"Tony is a smart man, but he is also a passionate man, you find out exactly what a man is passionate about and suddenly he isn't so smart" As he spoke the American, southern drawl seemed to come out thickly, he had betrayed his own country to these people.

"And just what is Stark passionate about?" You asked. You felt yourself becoming angry at the man in front of you who thought himself so smart. Thought himself even smarter than Tony Stark. Your loyalties became a fuel to the fire that burned in your veins.

"He wants world peace and so if it was found to be his very weapons to disrupt that peace? Well, you're here now aren't you?"

You acted shocked, in the moment it was more convincing than any of your other attempts at lying "So it was you who bought Tony's weapons and gave them to extremists?"

"Aye," he stifled a chuckle.

You felt like giving a smirk but held back. The smart ass had just confessed to the bug you had just now stuck underneath his desk; it's recording now in Jarvis' data base. As smug as you were, he still had Tony somewhere and considering you didn't hydra's hear screams, he was isolated from his suit somehow. "Why?" You asked suddenly, why all this? Why Tony?

"One less Avenger, one step forward to the future. It started before the breakdown of Shield, let's just say, we didn't trust he wouldn't figure out Shield’s corruption, we wanted him distracted and ultimately out of the way. Since we've been found out, well now, it's just a bit of fun then isn't it?" There was something dark in those beady eyes. "Hail Hydra!" He lowly and you skin crawled all over. "Now if you would come with me." His sweaty sausage hand wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you along.

You figured to comply, he was still calling you Ms. Hart, what if he didn't yet know who you were? Or more importantly, what you could do?

 

You were brought back down to the floor of the ballroom. The hundred or so people were silent. They had been expecting this from the start. Just as you remembered the existence of the cage as it came into view. Stark was there, in the cage beside a Bengal tiger with a stunned look on his face. His suit couldn't reach him through the the bars without hitting him with the beam too, rather than summon it and let them have his tech he was stuck doing as they wished.

A sheet of metal separated him from the tiger so far. The beast was anticipating what was to come, pacing its small section of the cage. You looked around to see a few bemused expressions in the crowd. Your hands shook. You bit into your lip. You wanted to kill them all. There was something hot filtering through your veins, was this hatred? Or something worse? You were brought to the cage and shut in beside Tony but not before the oaf hit Stark a couple of times over the head for good measure. This pissed you off more to see the glee that shone on Blake's piggy features.

"Now for the main event my honoured guests." Waternoose's pride-filled voice boomed, rebounding from the humongous room's walls. "I do hope you'll enjoy my little birthday gift to you all. The death of Iron Man, and his little pet." He chuckled.

"I don't think your plan was all that well thought out Stark." You hissed, there was no stopping your hands now. It wasn't the tiger you feared.

Tony didn't know what to say. He had underestimated Blake, he thought him too stupid for a trap, he was just another minion of Hydra, he just wanted a little chaos. But it seems he wanted his cake and to eat it too, the greedy, conniving hog. Or was he just angry he had been played so hard? He discreetly touch his wrist, a glove, that's all he needed.

"Enjoy!" Waternoose called as he unsheathed the metal separating you from the wild animal.

You then sat eye to eye with the tiger. It's golden ones locked on yours, how could they do this to him? Such a regal animal depleted into a bag of bones. Cats weren't ones for drooling, but this poor creature had been degraded, levelled into doing so . You crawled closer, awkwardly climbing over Tony so he was protected by your body. Your body would regenerate- his wouldn't.

The big cat was still trying to figure out what to do with you, it was probably taught to fear humans and not eat them, but those hungry eyes said he wasn't all that choosy.

You didn't want to have to hurt the cat. It wasn't his fault. It was theirs all theirs. Your nose wrinkled as you couldn't hold back a sort of snarl on your face. You held out a hand to the tiger, you wanted to show it you meant no harm.

"What are you doing?" Stark asked from behind, he already had a plan, it was in motion, sort of; he just needed time. Though he couldn't quite voice it because of the audience you share.

"Who knows?" You answered vaguely. The bengal wasn't exactly little Sebastian, with a hand nearing his face raised a paw of claws to it. To him, you were offering yourself as food. You hadn't felt anything so sharp in your life. It tore into your flesh without trying. You didn't move your arm from its position, you were stronger than the tiger and it had to know that.

The crowd in front gave a cheer for the tiger.

You tried to convince yourself it didn't hurt, you kept as much of a deadpan face as you could muster. There was another moment of eye contact with the beast. Please let it know, you were on its side. But- if it turned on Tony, you would have no choice but to end it.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" Tony exclaimed.

"I doubt that," you replied shortly. The tiger raised its mouth to your bleeding hand. You could feel its hot breath. It didn't bite. It licked at the wounds. An apology, it knows it's in the face of something that could end it without trying, animals had an instinct about these things. It was facing down an alpha. A monster. It didn't matter whether or not the creature apologised because the wounds were already gone just leaving blood in its wake.

"H-hey, what's that?" Came a startled voice in the crowd of Hydra.

"What is she doing?" Asked another.

Stark couldn't answer, he hadn't the faintest idea, he was too busy fiddling with his wrist- why had he parks so far away? Come on glove!

"It's not your fault you're like this." Your hand move in between its black tipped ears. You had a strange feeling of déjàvu. It wasn't that you have attempted to speak to a beast before, was it? You felt your lip curl into a dirty sneer. "Would you like revenge?" The tiger made a low rumbling growl. Your blood still boiled. You slipped the shoes from your feet, you saw the dismayed faces of Hydra, this wasn't going the way they'd planned. You didn't care what they knew, all you cared for was hurting them; really, really bad. For what they done to the tiger, for what they had done with Stark's weapons, for taking away Steve's livelihood, for shooting Romanoff, for what they did to Bucky Barnes.

"______, don't," Stark knew what you intended, he just needed a little more time. What if they brainwashed you like Barnes? With your secret known would they seek you out?

But you already had. You peeled back the bars as easy as parting vines in a jungle, there was something murderous in your eyes.

"_______! _______!"

But you didn't hear Stark, you let the tiger free and your killer's gaze honed in on Waternoose.

There were sudden screams from the room.

"Monster!" Came a yell.

Yes. That is what you were. A _Monster._

Blake stayed his feet in terror as others ran from the hall. He expected Tony to be trouble, not the date.

You walked steadily on bare feet, the fear was lost in the anger, it was like your extremities burned with it, you feet, your hands, you heart. You gripped his collar, lifting, lifting his short tubby little legs from the ground. This bastard who harmed all those you came to love.

"W-what are you?" His watery little rat's eyes had never look so wide.

He had repeated the same question Stark had in the jet, truthfully, -"I have no idea." You growl before throwing him against the adjacent wall meters away. You hadn't used much strength so he didn't go _splat_ , just enough to render him immobile for a while. You felt a sudden hand on your shoulder. Your eyes stayed full of bloodlust on the pig that had bounced off the wall of his own palace.

"Hey, ______, you don't have to be what they say you are." Came Stark's somewhat soothing voice, he was united with his iron man get up.

You let out a shaky breath. "I have no intention of killing him." You confessed. "However. I won't save him either." You looked to the tiger circling him as all else had already escaped other than the poor terrified dancer chained to the stage. "Do what you have do to Stark, Jarvis has a confession recorded," you looked him finally, "I'll be waiting by the car." You walked away slowly feeling no remorse or care for what happens to Blake Waternoose. As you turned to leave you saw the gaze in the eyes of the woman chained to the stage. She was scared of you. It hurt more than the tiger had. You padded over grasped the chain and pulled it from the wall, handing it to her.

There was no word of thanks, she ran with a look of fear plastered on her face. What the hell were you?

You walked somberly away to the car. You were done with this mission, you wanted to be home. That's all you ever wanted. You weren't cut out for hero work. It was definite now. Fury was right about you.

Tony piqued a brow at the damage you had done to the man in front of him. His collar hadn't looked like that had it? You know, singed black? Just what was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo~ I'm working on this still c:  
> thank you for your 138 Kudos and your lovely comments!!  
> I will continue to write this thing :3  
> <3 thank you for reading, I love you!!


	14. You could never know

You didn't speak another word on the matter of Blake and the tiger, you didn't even ask the out come. You wanted the satisfaction of killing the rat without feeling the burden and so you left Schrodingers cat lie. You didn't think Tony was the type to let someone die like that though, he was a better being than yourself. You just hoped Stark called someone to look after the beautiful tiger.

The jet ride was quiet. It was worse than the ride over because you already knew what to expect. Despite your nervous hands you picked up a pencil to draw, you felt you needed to draw, like you _had_ to draw. It was a bothersome itch you had to scratch. Sitting across from Stark, which neither of you had bothered to change from your formal attire, in the tan squishy recliner you leaned on the center table not quite sure what you were drawing.

"- Princess?" Tony began after the longest time of thinking and not saying anything.

"Hmmm?" You made a noise of acknowledgement, still focusing on the individual lines of your drawing and not the bigger picture.

"Thank you."

This had your hand stay mid-line. Gratitude? From Tony Stark? That wasn't a thing. "Uh, why?"

"In all of that back there, you not only saved me from a tiger but exposed yourself to all of Hydra because of me." He was looking at you strangely. -even if he did have a plan, had you not acted, who's to say he wouldn't be tiger poo right now?

You felt very on the spot. "It was a selfish act," you furrowed your brow. "He was Hydra, they has affected most of the Avengers and you're all m-" your family. Oh screw it. "My family. He pissed me off so... I-" wanted to kill him. You couldn't look at Tony.

"That's not what selfish is." He said simply after coming to terms that you had actually referred to him and the others as your family. Suppose you never did have one, did you? He might accept that. So where would he sit in this family tree? Cool uncle? Even cooler science bro?

If that wasn't selfish you would have to question yourself and that wasn't something you liked doing. "What ever helps you sleep at night Stark." Yeah, a bit of blue there, you had moved on to the colours, a smidge of red.

"What are you drawing anyway?" He asked curiously only able to see it slightly distorted and hidden mostly by your hands.

What had you been drawing? You took in the entire picture. A cruel face, with scar-like markings, a pointed nose; nipped at by the cold. Blue skin. Red eyes. You dropped the page like it had burnt you with a sudden gasp. It was like the page could see. It was staring at you, he was staring right at you, rendered with precision straight from your dreams. Fear pricked at your skin as did the cold, it was like the creature was there with you. You ran to the other side of the jet in panic, your stomach flipped and somewhere in the shock, the recycled air and being so many kilometers in the air you were sick in the jet's lavatory.

Just what was that? Tony picked up the piece of paper, even it sent shivers up his spine. So this was the creature from your nightmares? You hadn't even realised you were drawing it, what did it mean? And what did it have to do with what Clint was guarding for you back home?

 

You didn't feel well. Were you coming down with something? You were pale and sickly and you blamed Tony's damn jet. The car ride from New York airport to the Avenger's tower was just something you did not need.

"Tony, I'm walking," you said dismissively. When you say walking you meant you were going to some roof running. You had never felt as free as you did when you ran without anyone to bother you, without things tying you down. Did Sebastian feel like that when he scaled the building to see you all those times?

"Really? In that? You just showed yourself to all of Hydra and you want to walk home in the dark?" He peaked a brow. He wasn't keen on having Clint chew him out like the last time Steve left you to your own accord. Though he didn't really feel like being on the receiving end, but it did look like you were suffering from travel sickness.

Oh yeah, nine hours, and you still wore that expensive dress between the throwing up, cursing at Tony and the drawing you never got to take it off. Would it feel cool to have it trailing after you? Like a cape, or wings, your author's mind romanticised it. A very guilty pleasure. If you were partly an Avenger shouldn't you look into a costume? You'd like a cape- As for Hydra, you weren't all that worried, they probably didn't have anything to hold you.

"I'm more worried for any Hydra agent that comes for me," you said honestly, "and I think I got a little blood on the dress any way." You shrugged, it was just a spot by your ribs from when your feline friend had a go at your hand. And some singeing around the feet that you couldn't quite place in your memory as to when it happened. "I'm sorry, I don't think you can take it back," you chuckled.

"Come to think of it you threw those shoes away, didn't you?" He squinted at you.

"Suppose I did," you said thoughtfully. "Where did you put my glasses anyway?"

"I may have lost them," he added with a shrug.

Shoes were useless things, but, those glasses were something special. Your eyes slitted, you'll have to use a different pair when you got home. "I'll see you back there Stark." You said grudgingly, closing the door of the cab for him a little harder than you probably should have.

 

The rushing night air ruffling at your hair and the dress, the different lingering scents, the twinkling of the stars. This was your moment of inner peace. The air tasted better out here than it had in that musty jet. You were glad it was all over. If you ever saw another Hydra agent ever again, it would be far too soon.

As you skipped across a shoe outlet you felt a sudden prickling at your neck. A sudden freezing cold. A stomach crawling sensation of imminent danger. You had felt this before- in your apartment, the day you left it forever. Something was wrong. Something was following you.

Were you paranoid? Yes, however, this wasn't a feeling you could ignore. The ground dug at your feet as you fastened the pace in a panic. You looked behind. Nothing was visibly chasing. But you felt it closing in, you felt its murderous intent like a cold blade on your back. You ran quicker still into an all out sprint.

There were few buildings you could reach in the surround area of the Avenger's HQ, you fell from the last building at a bit of a roll. Scrambling to your feet, you didn't stop. You got to the door of the tower.

"Jarvis -let me in," you panted terrified, backing up against the automatic doors. You looked across the gardens in front. It was too dark. It was still out there. "-Jarvis!" You implored. The doors opened as you were leaning on them and you fell backwards into the lobby.

"Sorry, about that Princess." The computer sounded to grimace. It was protocol not to open the door when it was being leaned on, but it was overridden with the panic in your voice.

You lay flat on your back before sitting up and looking into the glass doors. There was something there, in the outskirts of light the tower provided. It was a tall, very tall, figure. Something was off about it, it's eyes seemed to glow at you. Staring directly at you. It knew you, not just who you were now, but who you had been before.

Just as you noticed it. It was gone. You hadn't imagined it had you? Dreams, drawings you didn't realise you had been doing and now this. Were you going mad? You shook all over like a leaf caught in the breeze, you were clammy and pale. It felt like the aftermath of that dream all over again.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" Came a warm voice, Clint had been alerted by Jarvis when you returned as he had requested the computer to do and he found you spalled there. After he asked he saw the white terror of your face.

"Hide the bag." You noticed it still on Barton's stomach. "-S-something is out there."

At this Clint's eyes snapped to the view of the outside. Even his eyes saw nothing, but how couldn't he believe you? "Let's get you back to your room." He said seriously, extending a hand.

You returned his offer with jittering hands.

He pulled you up and along to the lift. "Residential floor Jarvis." He ordered. The lift still faced the opaque doors. What was that? It was a flash of something in the light of the tower. A person? He couldn't tell, all he saw was the eyes. The cold, red eyes. It was gone before he could realise what he was looking at. He had really seen that hadn't he? Were your stories getting to him?

 

In your room you found yourself pacing. _Think good things._ Where to put the bag? Was that chest of draws really all that safe? There was a lock on you cupboard. Perhaps there would be better. You mumbled the last of your favourite things out loud, sound vaguely like “Smell of apple pie,”

Apple Pie? Clint felt rather useless watching you pace like that. He hadn't seen you do that since you been in your apartment. Was this a relapse?

You dragged your nails up your back to your neck in your moment of discord. Under your bed maybe? You had a second pillow you didn't actually use, it was just for show really, could you stuff it in there? No, the cleaner might bother it. The cleaner? Who was the cleaner? Could they be trusted? No, the cupboard. With the lock and key.

You promptly whisked yourself into the wardrobe and came out without the bag and with a key on a chain from a pendant-necklace that you deemed no longer needed it, with the key around your neck you finally felt some sort of safety before sighing into your bed. You were exhausted from it all, should you sleep in this damn dress? You weren't bothered. Freaking out as you had- you were probably tired. You felt looming embarrassment.

"What do you think was following you?" Mummy Clint asked from his usual watching chair.

You put the back of your hand across your eyes. It was stupid. "It could have been- I thought- the things from my nightmares. But that's impossible. I'm going crazy, it was probably nothing." You convince yourself after a while, it was nothing but your own mind. "I really don't know what's wrong with me Clint." Your face pulled a frown.

"Who knows? But I do know your room didn't destroy itself before you came here, maybe there really was something following you." And maybe it was from your dreams, he thought thinking of the crimson eyes that felt too real to be imagined.

It was the condition that made you stay here, that thing he thought he glimpsed, what Fury want 'neutralised'- Clint wanted to see the tower's security cameras after seeing that you sleep. "What happened on the mission with Tony?" He attempted to change the subject as nonchalantly as possible.

"I-I did some things-" you thought back to the rage you felt around that rat, combing a hand through your hair. "- I think it best you ask Tony that one." You looked away. You were saved by a rather urgent knock on the door. "Come in!" You replied.

The door peeled back to reveal a wide shouldered man you had no surprise in seeing from that scent of apples pies and an old barber shop. However what did surprised you was his state, he looked like over the last couple of days he didn't get a wink of sleep. He supported a bruise on his right cheek. "I need a word ______," he sounded croaky.

"-No Steve. Not now." Barton dismissed not after what just happened.

You watched from the bed at the two men glaring at each other.

"-but," Roger's started in a louder voice.

"No!" Clint said louder still, he wasn't willing to say you were just chased here by something neither of you could discern was real or not.

You were still kind of pale, you were still in this pretty princess frock you'd never admit to kind of enjoying, but if Cap needed anything from you of course you'd help out in seconds. "It's okay Clint, anything you need Captain?"

Rogers took a second look at you. You really didn't look well.

"It's nothing, turns out air transportation make me sick." You waved it off.

He was apprehensive, but it was a dire situation. "It's Bucky- he's-" Cap didn't look like he could say it.

"Show me." You shouldn't have left on that mission.

You followed Steve to the room beside Bucky's, the one the two-way lead to, Barton was obviously miffed about the situation because he mumbling something about ending someone and nobody would even knowing what would have happened, he was instep very close behind you as if ready to catch you from fainting at any moment. He had to give you more credit, you weren't that much of a child.

 

In the room there was the large window, you could see Bucky walking aimlessly around the room his metal arm still dangling uselessly, chairs were overturned, wrenched from their bolts in the ground, there was a hole ripped in one side of the mattress. It looked like a reenactment of the time you and Tony had fought over the blanket because downing littered the floor.

He stalked over to the large bullet proof window and punched it, you were so sure he was going to smash it but no, it held firm. He punched it over and over in succession, he was hurting himself. You wondered how long it would stand up to such a beating. You remember seeing one of these windows blown out by a shockwave from Tony's suit and the time you punched one out for Banner, it had taken some persuading, even from something like you.

His knuckles showed that wasn't the first time he had done this either. His hair had fallen over his eyes and there was a cruel curl to his lip, you saw his bare chest rise and fall with angered breathing. He must have ripped his shirt off, now you could see how thin he had become, the Hydra serum still left him with some muscles but he certainly wasn't as big as Steve, he yelled something you assumed to be in Russian suddenly and you jumped. You could barely watch, you could only guess what Cap was feeling. You hadn't even noticed the other Avengers in the small dark room.

"When did it happen?" You asked quietly, avoiding the view from the of the mirror and flinching when another hoarse scream you didn't understand was heard.

"Jarvis, roll the clip," Tony stood with his arms folded having beaten you here and already had the chance to change into a favourite band shirt. He only let the soldier stay because he was a friend of Steve’s, but perhaps he was more trouble than he was worth? The plan was to rehabilitate the former assassin and gain yet another Avenger. He memory of the Chitauri had him believe there couldn't ever be too many in the team. He could kick him out now, only, Steve would never give up. The tower was probably the safest place to keep him locked up for the time being.

A screen by the side that had been showing the view of a camera set up in the room, then showed a piece of film that had been recorded with the timestamp of nine a.m the day before yesterday. There was no sound. Steve came in and woke Bucky with breakfast, everything seemed civil, nothing was wrong and then it seemed he started yelling without reason and then he started getting violent. He kicked Steve in the stomach, chased him from the room, pushed things over, broke appliances.

"What did you say to him?" You frowned.

"He asked where you were," Steve replied sadly. "I said you would be back in two days, he requested to see you, he started raving that you wouldn't come back because he had tortured killed you, he has bad dreams so I figured-"

“-He kinda did,” you let out a breath didn't realise you were holding in. A weight rolling off your back.

Clint made a sort of noise. And came to glare at the one way, “what?”

“It wasn't chance I came across Steve at the shoreline, when he was under Hydra’s control he took me to the compound underneath the bay- I guess they wanted me to become one of their soldiers.” You avoided gazes. “Then I ran into him again at the beach and- he broke my neck.”

Romanoff from the background made a sharp intake of breath. “Why didn't you tell any of us this?” She already, wasn't exactly a fan of the winter soldier’s work, this tasted like the rancid cherry on top. Nat recovered her usual deadpan quickly enough, she had thought you were incapable of secrets at this point, moreso, she had thought you trusted her more than to keep this to yourself.

"I didn't want to worry you all, hey, least we know I am pretty much indestructible at this point," you tried to pass it off as nothing, putting a hand on Barton's arm with a smile, yet remembering made you feel pretty ill, it wasn't something you like to revisit. "I should go in there huh?” With all the Avengers watching how could you not behave yourself?

Steve became very quiet.

"Is that really a good idea?" Banner finally said something, he held the same position as Tony as if it was an observation deck to an experiment. Coming back from a broken neck was unheard of and yet he was more than thankful for it. He also knew he was the one who would have to clean you up later if something went very wrong.

"Yeah," you sighed. "If I just show him I'm alive and well perhaps he'll snap out of it?”

"But you might not be after," Romanoff conceded, you were her precious little probee, indestructible or not.

"I don't see any sharp tree branches in the near vicinity, and he'll certainly be easier to handle than-"

Bruce braced himself for you to say the Hulk and so was shocked when you ended the sentence.

"A tiger,"

"Strange analogy," he commented.

"Uh- ask Tony," you said in explanation.

Everyone looked at him weirdly. "I'll recount later, maybe."

"Okay, I'll see you on the other side," you petted Clint's arm once more. He has to stop worrying.

“Wait!” Steve finally intervened. “I can't ask you to do this ______,” why hadn't you let him in on this? It felt wrong to pressure you into taking care of Bucky given what he did to you.

You let out another breath, “you don't have to protect me, when Bucky came in- I was the one that attacked him, I broke his arm and beat him bloody. I hated him. For treating you like he had for what Hydra did to me-”

“That wasn't him,” he defended as the valiant Captain America would his best friend, his perception of you changing, he was realising there was a large wedge between the two of you. The wedge had a name, James Barnes.

“I know.” You looked down, the damage was done, this was how it was going to be. You should have only been truthful in the first place. "Make sure you lock the door behind me Jarvis, it wouldn't be good if he got out." You spoke in defeat.

 

You stepped into the destroyed room, you noticed an untouched tray of dinner that had been left, notably without a spoon, so that's how Steve got the blackened cheek? He came in and presented food.

The Winter Soldier saw you and payed you no mind and took to pacing again.

Great, you were here, what now? You weren't scared, what could he really do to you?

Those stone grey eyes were on you for the briefest moment as he walked past towards the window.

No you couldn't handle it if he was going to punch it without reason again. You took a sidestep to intercept.

The soldier looked down on you through the fallen hair with gritted teeth. He snarled something under his breath you couldn't understand but picked up the word Hydra and serpent.

“Bucky, stop this,” you met his growl with your own. As it stands you weren't made for diplomacy, “you're worrying Steve,” your voice warmed- a little.

The man in front of you stiffened momentarily at the name, “who the hell is Bucky?”

You felt the impact rattle around in your brain before you even saw the back of his hand. Lowering your gaze you slowed your breathing an willed yourself to stay in control. You could taste copper where the inside of your cheek had met with your teeth. This wasn't Barnes. It wasn't Hydra either. “You are Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the one hundred and seventh infantry.” You informed but didn't remember how you knew that.

The man in front of you disregarded any of what you said and attempted once more to sidestep you. When you intercepted again be shouldered past you with enough force that an average person would hit the floor.

“You were raised in an orphanage but you never let it get in your way of social hierarchy.” You stood firm against the shouldering and instead caught him around the middle in your steely arms. You fought yourself from squeezing him like a tube of toothpaste and instead became a human cage.

He glowered at you in close proximity, you were too close to form a punch- but perhaps, he riled his head back.

You saw the intended headbutt coming and instead buried your head in his open chest where he couldn't maneuver such a thing. “You met Steve in school, he is your best friend.” You spoke against his masculine scent.

The soldier let out a frustrated yell as he was being hugged by a statue, attempting to knee and elbow you in the close proximity.

You weren't going to hurt him again, though your body was primed to attack. “When Paul Baker met you for the first time, he pushed you into the mud.”

He struggled against you, pulling at you to get off him.

“She completely kicked your ass.” You chuckled against the feeling of your foot being stomped on. You were lucky he wasn't on top of his game or else he would have scrunched you up like a bit of paper and would have thrown you away.

 

"I'm going to get her," Barton couldn't stand by any longer. He was battering you while Clint just stood here.

"Calm down Legolas," Stark halted, though he must admit, he wasn't exactly enjoying the proceedings either. “Have a little more faith in our princess.”

Barton looked to Nat over everyone else. "He's right. She hasn't called pickles yet." She knew, deep down, you had some pride- you were more stubborn than anyone when it came to enduring physical pain.

He glared at each and everyone of them, they were betraying you by doing nothing, especially Cap, “you'll make her do this?” He scowled, “she idolises you, she'd do anything for you, anything that happens to her in there is on you. -What happened to her at the bay is on you,” he added with salt, but it was him who should have taken better care of you.

Steve couldn't return his gaze in shame, he couldn't stop you either, his eyes trained solely on where you stood.

 

“In nineteen forty five, behind enemy lines, in the alps of Austria, you fell from a train- we thought you were dead,” as you tried to prompt his memory you could almost see it in your own eyes, began to feel what Steve must have felt. How could they do this to your Sergeant? Cold ran you though and a dull ache started in your frontal lobe.

The Winter Soldier could feel something wet on his chest. Were those tears? The soldier knew crying, he had seen it when he had ripped entire families apart. Why did it bother him that you were doing it? Why were you crying? Who were you? Hadn't he killed you? His body was becoming tired from the struggling and the fighting.

You held onto him tighter still, the bruises and scratches were healing. You could hear his heart beating away in his chest. “Do you remember who I am?” He was calming down, there were no more incoming blows.

He froze in your arms. His mouth stumbled for a moment- "_______,” not Paul. “I hurt you again," Bucky came into realisation sadly.

"I don't think you could actually injure me Sergeant Barnes," at least, how he was currently. You took a quick step back from him.

Maybe not for long but he was still capable, and then there was Steve, he'd punched him too, would he go on forever like this? Harming those he came to care about?

If he hadn't really hurt you -"Then why were you crying?" His lips kept a frown and his brows drew in. -That dress, that was kind of lewd. He didn't know where he was supposed to look, your chest was- and your back- sweet lord have mercy on his soul. He got distracted by the city scape.

"-I was? I- don't- Remember." you sniffed, you tried to rewind your thought process and frowned. "How Hydra treated you- when- at the POW camp" there was a sting behind your eyes. Your hand raised to your head, nursing the sudden pain. You had no doubt that some of the files Jarvis had pulled from Waternoose’s computer were going to be on Bucky, you don't think you could even read it.

“-POW camp?” James eased out. How would you know anything about that time.

“What POW camp?” You cocked your head to the side. Why was he suddenly bringing that up? You were missing something, best not to think on it- your head would only hurt more. You dropped your hand and looked to your feet realising what you were wearing in front of a man of the forties. "-look tired Sergeant, I think you should get some rest." You looked to his bed, it was pretty much destroyed.

"Is that it? I lose control like that and all you do is send me to bed?" He was dismayed totally forgetting what the dress even looked like. “You're supposed to be keeping me in check,” his eyes hardened.

You slitted your eyes back as if he had blamed a friend and not himself. "It wasn't you, it was Hydra. It was the Soldier. These things will happen, they'll get fewer in time," You dragged him by the arm and pushed him onto the good side of the bed knowing in the cupboard was some spare blankets that hopefully weren't ripped up too.

"Does it matter who it was? And what if it doesn't stop?" He raised his voice as you were about to go get him some blankets.

"Yeah, it does, and it will," you replied bluntly, being as aloof and rude as you would usually. Stopping mid step looking at him. What did he want from you? You weren't some optimistic captain of America.

"Do you realise how many people I have killed?" He looked pale and sickly, darkness had encircled his eyes.

"You were made to do it." You hissed back, why wasn't he understanding this? If they hadn't made him do it, then there would be nothing holding you back from exacting your own revenge right now.

"-you don't understand." He repeated. "You don't know the feeling of robbing someone of their wife and children, or a child of their parents," he remembered a man with large sideburns sitting down to a family dinner in a flannelette shirt after a long day of chopping wood, one of the kids was talking excitedly about something and the entire family were listening with smiles.

He loaded his sniper rifle- the man was a threat to Hydra and to the world, at least that is what he was told, the man was also said to be unkillable so, they targeted the family. The Winter Soldier felt nothing as he fired three rounds without miss, he'd never seen such sorrow as the man held his dying wife. The man with the animalistic disposition came after him, but he was already gone. How had he just done that? Didn't even ask questions-

"-you don't know the blank look in someone's eyes as their life fades, my hands are unclean." That wasn't the only woman and children that had came up on his target list, his memories of that time came back in flecks, how could he ever know just how many- he never wanted this, he wanted to serve his country for his fellow men, instead he helped destroy it, “-it will never stop, I want it to end.” A cocktail of regret and self loathing whirled in his stomach, did he even deserve to cry for the things he had done? He hid his face in his hand. This was unbecoming of the person he once was, but he was losing it.

"Never say those words again." You had snarled the words looking down on him sitting there on the broken bed, he was thin and pale, his pink lips were stuck in a constant frown, he looked to be somewhere else until you rose your voice. "I've never heard something so disgusting and selfish. Ending it doesn't stop the pain, it passes it on to someone else." You felt yourself losing respect for the man that was Bucky Barnes. "You want Steve to feel as you do?" You could think of nothing crueler than passing on the pain you felt to all of them.

James looked entirely stunned, his eyes fell, he hadn't thought of it in such a way, no, he couldn't do that to Steve, he couldn't do it to you either "You could never know this pain," he said quietly, he was alone, all alone with such a burden.

You were never going to get these blankets. You sighed. You came to sit where he was leaning up on the headboard of the bed. "I understand better than you think."

He shifted further away from you as you sat. As if he'd burn or taint you if you got close.

"I heard you were a great man before all of this, you wouldn't willingly end a life if you had the chance." More than heard, you somehow knew that’s how Bucky was- you missed the James Buchanan Barnes you envisioned. “I was never good to begin with.”

His eyes were cold on yours, it was a slap in the face to hear you say that about yourself. "You're no villain."

"Not everyone is as perfect as Captain America, Bucky," you said darkly. “You told me to look you in the eye and tell you I’ve never killed anyone and I couldn't.” Your mind flittered back where you didn't like going, to your third year of school. “The boy was sixteen, innocent, whole life ahead of him, when I decided to part his head from his body.” You spoke disjointed, pretending happened to another. “There was no brainwashing, no programming, no rage monster. Only me.”

Those woeful grey eyes bore into you, he went over it in his head, there was no way. "Someone like you, you could have never-”

“I thought I told you- I'm not your precious Baker.” You spoke over him with ice, “if you're so quick to excuse me, take a better look in the mirror, look to someone more worthy of your forgiveness-” you looked to him for a moment, a war hero ruined, this life wasn't fair. He shouldn't rely on you, if he hadn't expected you to be some hero, he would not have been lost without you, he wouldn't have spun out. You were poison. “Seeing as you are back on the reservation- I'll see myself out.” You stood to do exactly that.

Bucky reached for you with his only working hand, securing your arm.

You turned to see a moment of desperation, your brow furrowed, “I'm sorry,” you couldn't look any longer. “I'm not the one you want.” You slipped from his grasp, you weren't his Private.

When you opened the sliding door you were greeted with unsure glances, they had been watching and listening. Steve avoided looking at you all together. “I'm going to bed.” You announced, and this time perhaps they'll leave you there.

Rogers cleared his throat before you could move.

So badly did you want to escape, but you stayed, a lump in your throat forming.

“I think it's best that the two of you stay away from each other,” Steve crossed his arms.

“Steve!” Clint reprimanded, as if your night hadn't been horrid to start with being chased through New York by something invisible, now this, it was Bucky that had snapped your neck, or did the Captain forget?

You swallowed back hurt. “You're right.” Roger’s never did believe you murdered that boy, he probably did now, knowing what you were capable of. You bustled through the avengers, storming towards your room. “Good night.” You bid.

 

Alone in your room finally, all you could do was lock the door before sliding against it and giving in to your want to cry. Why did you inflict pain onto everything and anyone you touched?

Steve didn't want you. Of course he didn't, for all you had done, you would be surprised if anyone did, the deep dark hole in the pit of your stomach wasn't just growing, it had come to devour you.

You were both lost and empty, without anything to punch in fear of toppling the entire tower. You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged yourself trying to stay quiet as you whimpered through it. You were a killer. You shouldn't let anyone come close, they always leave. Always. Always alone.

But you weren't alone

It was out there, waiting, watching.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this  
> Who knows? Maybe a pretty reader is a villain after all?  
> Thank you for reading~~~!! I'll keep working at it  
> and thank you for the 151 kudos and lovely comments~~  
> I love you all~~


	15. Just sleep

 “It's alive!” He exclaimed all in good humour but left the room awkward regardless.

“-Tony,” Banner shook his head slowly. “_____, is there anything you need from us?”

You were still in your pyjamas, carrying a book, books were your only solace, you weren't sure when it was the last time you had changed from these clothes. You were a bit pale and your eyes were a little dark, “I've been having bad dreams-” you mumbled like a child expecting a spot in their parent’s bed.

Bruce looked over you as a doctor should, you looked tired, relinquishing a hand to you, bringing you to sit on one of the many steel tables of the lab.

You complied quietly, not even stopping to marvel at the warmth of Banners hand or the swirling kindness in his dark sparkling eyes. When was the last you had seen either Tony or Bruce? Weeks? Months? Days blurred together a little.

“We all know about your nightmares,” Stark spoke grimly, you weren't exactly quiet about them and they were becoming a customary part of Stark Tower. When you closed your door the only people that seemed to make it in your premise were Clint for sheer trying, and Nat, who snuck in there from time to time between missions.

Barton was in favour with Steve's movement, when James and yourself were in the same room, you turned volatile. But that didn't mean he wanted you to close yourself off as you did.

Natasha was more stubborn about the whole affair, in the beginning trying you drag you out of whatever hole you'd created for yourself, for you to go down there and kick Barnes’ ass. Giving in only slightly by simply presenting you with her company and training you without any more sparring.

“How can we help you?” From that look, it seemed Banner might do almost anything to fix you.

“I want to get away from this tower,” you confessed tired and absent, unknowing and uncaring of how that may affect the two in the room. “To do that I need to seek whatever is out there looking for me, for that, I'd like to know what I'm going up against.”

You're leaving? Stark didn't blink, though his lips have have given a tug for a millisecond, it was always on the table but he didn't expect it so suddenly. “That's all well and good, but what do you want from us?” Were you finally willing to give them your artifacts for them to study?

You relinquished the book on the table with a _thump_. “I've been looking into electromagnetic brain stimulation,”

“You want to remember your past,” Banner’s brows drew, drawing his conclusion as if he expected as much. “You do know it's untested and unsafe,”

“Hydra did it.” You were blunt to his caring manner, “we so happen to have their schematics via Waternoose, their machine was intended to make people forget, we reverse it to stimulate parts of the brain withholding memories. You do this- and I can go back to my normal life.”

It was as if you had shot the two of them with shards of ice. “Is that what you want?” Banner fiddled with a ballpoint pen.

“Yes.” It was best for everyone.

 

There was a time where it almost felt normal again, the three of you leaning over plans, forming calculations, having Jarvis work on mock-ups. You were lacking a lot of knowledge but knew enough to stay in the loop, you fed off the two of them and all that they taught you.

“The parts I ordered shall be here next week, we can assemble it then.” Stark flashed a slight of pride for you, but any smile soon faded. The plans were completed. Your time in the tower was numbered.

“Next week then,” Banner spoke absently, you would remember your past life and perhaps the people in it, maybe a family was out there was looking for their little girl?

You felt like you had lost half the load you were carrying already, still you felt wary. Only one more week of this torture.

“Actually,” Stark broke the surrounding silence with a glint in his eye. “I've been working on our little green love child alone lately- would you like to have a look at what I have got done?”

You had a small frown, your mind was surrounded in a sleepy fog but you gave nod, it had been a while since you had laid eyes on the mustang. “See you later Banner, I guess,” you gave a short wave.

“Will I see you at sunset?” Bruce blurted out.

You considered this, “I guess so,”

 

You followed behind Stark at your own pace, through the hallways of his tower. It seemed foreign to you that you could have ever been lost in these halls. You knew all the floors, knew those who came and went on occasion.

But leaving was for the best, you didn't have to question it, you had so much time to do so. Your existence was a stand still here, you weren't an Avenger, in fact you didn't feel like a person the Avengers liked. Those few years you spent by yourself you never inflicted harm on anyone, in those years you might have even been happier. You longed for those days alone with your cat, for those days of glorious slumber.

Watching the ground on the slightly delirious side, watching the way it moved as you walked you came to a still next to Stark in front of the elevator.

Tony made a frustrated sound. “Are you really going to spend your last weeks around here looking like that?”

“Like what?” You frowned.

“Exactly,” Stark closed the space between the two of you and took you mighty off guard when he pinched both your cheeks and forced the corners of your mouth upwards. “There, now, that's much more of an improvement.”

You didn't see how, his grip on your face wasn't exactly kind. “Shoould I doo the same too you?” countered in slur.

“That would be the day-”

Like the grown woman you were, you tried to lick his hand in retaliation.

The elevator then approached your floor, in it were three men, it was evident there was laughter that was cut short before the moment when the door fully opened. They were there long enough for them to take in what Stark was doing to you and for him to drop his hands and act like none of it happened.

You could feel him watching.

“_______!” Sam Wilson couldn't believe the sight of you, “where have you been? When is the next time I get to lap you?” The fox shone a smile that showcased the slight gap in his teeth, slapping you on the back as he exited the elevator.

You tried to smile but it seemed as forced as when Tony was doing it for you. “I'm not sure- but you'll see me when you do.” You answered vaguely, your gaze meeting the ground as the other two exited the elevator.

“It certainly won't be after next week,” Tony chimed as if happy about it.

You discreetly and carefully elbowed the scientist in the stomach.

Wilson looked to Steve who was behind him as if there was something he was missing out on.

Rogers shrugged casting a look over you, though your cheeks were very pinched, your skin tone faded to a grey, the life seemed to be sucked from you.

“Oh, you didn't hear? Our resident Princess here won't be around for much longer,” he spoke in a sarcastic tone that perhaps suggested he blamed someone for that.

“-______?” The blond finally spoke.

You cleared your throat that had started hurting, a lump forming in it. “Y-yeah, got some leads- should neutralise whatever's following.. I’ll be free.”

“Free? You make your cushy place in the tower seem like such a burden,” Wilson was much louder than you in comparison, his good nature spilling out.

“Guess there is a spare suite for you when I leave,” You shrugged it off, “-Tony, our project green awaits,” you gestured to the lift.

“Wait- Stark, can I get that in writing?!” Sam tested jokingly, but was half serious.

“Sorry, what?” Stark acted confused to the request, placing a hand to his ear. The doors were closing.

You had the audacity to look up. You could see him through the closing door, existence stood still, James looked good, much better than he had been. His skin was warming, his weight and muscles were coming back, the scruff on his face was growing, he was missing an arm, it was likely Stark or Banner was playing with it. He seemed taller, it that were possible, he stood straighter perhaps. His greys never left you for those moments, trained on you from the first second he laid eyes on you.

When it was finally closed you realised he only looked better because you'd isolated yourself from him, like Steve wanted. He didn't need a reminder of the awful things he had done, and neither did you.

“We would never give up your suite in the tower you know?” He studied you arms crossed over his arch reactor.

You let out a breath you were holding. “I won't need it,” you tried to stay impartial, you tried to ignore that Wilson really would be taking your place.

“No, really, we have an entire floor-” he justified.

“Thanks Tony,” you spoke quietly.

 

You liked the way it smelt down here, it was an acquired taste, machine oils and grease a little lingering petrol, some copper, it was homely like most of the tower was. You appraised the moss coloured, nineteen sixty nine cobra jet mustang. She was a thing of beauty, a flick of a switch on the dash and under the bonnet came a faint green glow. Why was it green? Because it was cooler that way. You silently made an apology to her that you had left her for so long, the same you should probably voice to Stark but couldn't bring yourself to. “She still needs her stripes,” you traced your hand the length ways of the vehicle. The moss was in place but the racing stripes were completely necessary.

“-actually,” Stark interrupt your eyes locking on the leather upholstery that you sewed up yourself.

Something about sewing leather felt natural to you, why were you good with metal and leather works? There were so many things you were excited to remember about yourself- along with memories that you knew were going to haunt you.

“I found some of my father's old blueprints, if you're interested,” he made out that they weren't anything too exciting.

“Yeah, what are they?”

 

Minutes later scrolls of paper were weighted down from curling up in the bonnet. “You're kidding!” You gazed in awe, they were from the forties and were aged finely from the canister they were in.

He pointed, “Yeah, it says in the notes the reason it went on the back burner was because they couldn't find an energy source powerful enough to get it going-” he smirked at your inquisitive form in the glowing green light, you were far too busy gaping at the schematics to notice a moment of sadness come over him.

“Imagine it, a real live hover car!”

“That’s much more of an improvement,” he reiterated, though you didn't quite realise what he meant.

 

As you were working on one of the ‘wheels’ for the floating car at a bench, you spied something in the distance. At first it seemed grotesque and so needed a double take. It was an arm. It was hanging on a rack with a tell tale red star branded on the polished metallic deltoid. “Hey Tony?” You called to the man bopping along to the AC/DC playing in the background, he of course, was already on his second reverse polarity ‘wheel’.

He made a sound of affirmation along with some mumbled lyrics that sounded like, “ _she’s got balls, she’s got balls~”_ Pepper could only be proud.

“Shouldn't you be working on that- seems pretty important,” you wrote it off nonchalantly over the music, pointing a wrench that was in your oil covered hands.

“Ehh,” Tony made a bored noise, “why would I want to work on some old Nazi tech when I can make cars hover?” He sounded like a child being forced into something.

“Come on, it’s a guy's arm, can you imagine living with one arm because a mechanic can't be bothered to fix the other one?” You went back to tightening a bolt. You then pretended not to notice when Stark sat on his wheelie chair and wheeled closer to where you were working, a scrutinising look plastered on his face.

“You do it.”

You almost snapped your wrench. “What?” You stared at him stunned.

“Since you feel so strongly about it-” be began as if it hadn't been his entire end game getting you down here.

“I-I don't think I'd know how to,” you stuttered an excuse.

“You and I both know that isn't true, a take apart and clean up job is far too below my pay grade but you-”

“It's just not a good idea.” You spoke over him.

“You're the one who broke it, you should fix it, it builds character,” he again, had said it jokingly but left the air awkward.

You ducked your head.

“Well, I guess he’ll just have to wait a couple of months for me to get around to it,” Tony sighed, false giving up. “Or more- got a lot of projects to get to,” at that he decided to spin aimlessly on his chair.

“-fine,” you huffed.

 

* * *

 

 

“-Banner, have you ever felt -empty?” You were beginning to fear it was always going to be like this, that you'd never be okay again, like the existence you once lead was a cover up for the dark hole that always lingered. It seemed to get more intense with the tired fog that took over your brain.

You sat on a particular rock you liked the most, had jumped up there nimbly so to not disturb the sand that Bruce had raked soothing waves through. The dying sun left bright pinks in its wake, and a delightful amount of bright orange. Orange was an underrated colour, it took over the sky like no other, sandalwood burnt in the corner but was mostly taken by the breeze in this open place.

The Doctor had been breathing peacefully. “It started around the time when you collected Steve, didn't it?”

The clouds were purple but outline in the pinks and oranges, you knew that they were simply made of water particles but you longed to reach out for them. “How did you know?”

Banners voice seemed to grow deeper and slower during your time of relaxation, it tingled in your ears. “You've been withdrawn since then, keeping secrets, you haven't seemed yourself- was it because of what happened on the beach?”

You could almost see it as your eyes fell to the sand that the scientist had raked. “It was before that- Rumlow tied me to a chair and-”

“Stop.” Banner ordered with sudden loud volume. “-I'm sorry, I can’t-” hear what that man did to you knowing he was still out there. He took a deliberate and soothing breath.

“Thank you,” your voice had been dying as you spoke anyway, “I'd rather not recount-” you looked up at the clouds once more, there was one looked like a dragon, you frowned as the image came to you vividly. A great dragon with moose antlers- why did it make you feel sad?

“I think if you're feeling empty, you should look for something to fill yourself with- I can count of at least six people who would be willing to give you their friendship if that would help.”

You counted in your head, “five perhap- Steve’s-” your heart felt strangled, your felt the need to clutch at your chest.

“Have you thought of asking him?” Bruce frowned.

“I- its- complicated.” At least it felt that way, did Banner have a different view to you? The last wisps of light were then showing, most of the sky becoming purple and then blue. “Do you want to get dinner?”

Banner stretched from his perch, there was a lot more that he had wanted to say but it seems you're done talking. “Lead the way Princess.”

 

Walking back from dinner with Banner, which had been bombarded by Sam Wilson, and Clint Barton, who was looking almost too cheerful to be himself, you felt you were in a much more pleasant mood than you had been in a while. Suppose the good doctor was right? This darkness within you- it receded when you were around people? -and yet people were also its cause, how could you win?

That's when you noticed him, your eyes fell to the ground. He looked dangerous, more reminiscent of the man you met under the bridge, dressed in black cargo pants the same shade as his tee shirt.

He was walking in the opposite direction to you, it wasn't often that he was on his own. They smiled to his face but didn't trust him by himself. His eyes burned on you, narrowed, trained.

You tried to not acknowledge him as you passed with him on your right, the man was much more intimidating than thinning, gaunt boy you left on the bed you'd last seen him.

Impulsively an arm flew out and intercepted your walking.

You were stayed mid step with his arm snake your middle meeting your hip on the side away from him. You didn't dare look up still facing your direction of walking, he could lean in from this distance, he could probably shove you against the wall at this point too, worse still, you'd let him. You wanted to give up the resisting you did for Steve. You'd forgotten what he was like to be around, forgotten how it felt for him to touch you. “Why are you doing this?” You tried to keep you intangible feelings at bay, there was no darkness, only a spreading warmth that started from his finger tips, until your knees felt weak beneath you. It was almost worse feeling this, what was filled now would only become deeper when he was gone.

“Are you leaving because of me?” He spoke low his intentions unclear.

“It's not you-” but somewhat is, “I am finally strong enough to face down my own demons.” They were your words but honestly you didn't know, you're only goal being to get away from here- to rest.

“Then stay-” he all-but growled, a conflicted look came over him.

You furrowed your brow, what did he want from you? A reminder of a fallen love? That seemed like a painful request-

“Bucky, get away from her,” it was Steve who ordered it, his heavy footsteps approached from behind Barnes.

Suddenly his grip on your hip intensified, becoming possessive.

Startled you looked to get a gage on what he was thinking, those stormy eyes greeted you in shadow, his brow sitting low. You swallowed knowing you were seeing the face of the winter soldier, your heart began to beat wildly and not for fear.

With difficulty he made himself let go of you, his expression didn't quell but it was evident now, he had a leash on that part inside him or at least the winter soldier had decided to cooperate for now. And within you, a part wished he didn't.

James stood to the side when Rogers stood across from you. “Bucky, I'll meet you in the weights room,” he made it almost an order. “-Bucky?”

When he took his eyes off you he seemed to return to himself, he mumbled some sort of apology to Steve and made his way back the way he came.

“Are you alright?” Steve spoke when James was out of earshot, his hands on his hips.

Your brow furrowed, he did know you could bench press the winter soldier into the ground right? Especially when he was without his silver arm. Further still, why did he care? It was adamant that he wanted nothing to do with you. “I'm fine,” you responded with no emotion.

“So, you're leaving the tower soon,” he nodded, “it's- good to hear,” he passed off.

There didn't seem malice him his voice, didn't seem a shame to him either, your heart sunk. Even if he turned around and begged for you to stay, it wouldn't have made a difference in your mind because it was “-better for everyone,” you felt a lump forming in your throat- you couldn't think of a way to end the conversation without meeting tears, and so started walking back to your room. _It was better for everyone._ You left Steve Rogers alone to his thoughts in the hallway.

 

“You decided to leave without discussing with us first,” the two mimicked each other in folding their arms over their chests. It was Nat who had spoken, they ambushed you when all you wanted to do was crawl up and cry for a while, that's all they seem to do anymore.

“Recently you said I was doing well in my training,” straying away from grappling and focusing solely technique, going through various fighting routines. Standing alone it felt more like a solo dance number, but when Nat compliments, you listen. “I thought I could take on something bigger, thought I could kill the thing from my dreams-”

“What's this about an electric- stimulation- thing?” Mumma Clint wasn't looking impressed, he had to hear it from Banner, he had to force a smile for the rest of dinner.

“It's sort of a memory recovery machine.” You sounded out- leaving out that it was originated by Hydra and was still rather untested on humans other than the winter soldier.

“You're going to remember-” your real family, your old friends. Natasha didn't give anything away on her face.

“-thats- that's good,” but it didn't really sound like it coming from Barton. It relayed in his brain that perhaps afterward you may not be the same person he has watched over all these years, it also relayed the you might not want him to follow you where you're going in the future.

“If that is so, then you should have no excuse for going out to lunch with us tomorrow.” Natasha spoke stubbornly as if testing you will to go through.

You don't, you really don't, there was something out there waiting for you, but if you wanted a life free of the tower and of the dreams plaguing your sleep- you were going to have to face it. You'd also have to face the hundreds of people you could squish like insects if you weren't careful. “Sounds good.” You wished you sounded more confident.

 

* * *

 

 

The time between order and delivery moved quicker than the time you had locked your door to the Avengers. Between time spent with those who wanted it you found yourself in that garage screwing around with this lone arm.

Nat and Barton’s lunch was uneventful, though the food was exquisite, you'd never eaten somewhere so luxurious before. You flipped the bill with the cash that was farming dust in your bank account. You also never spent so much money on a meal before either.

 

* * *

 

 

Pulling the limb to pieces gave you a look into an old Nazi battery which you had warped when you twisted the arm, a liquid was dripping throughout from it. The bugger bit back at you giving one final, heartstopping zap when you reached for it.

“Princess- are you okay?!” Stark his eyes were wide. He was across the room working on a power converter for the car’s new set of wheels.

“-other fucker.” You gasped in air from the floor where you had abruptly fainted. “You almost fooled me for concern Tony- just a dodgy power cell,” you tried to laugh off, a look of determination came across your face, reapproaching the arm mechanism with rubber gloves.

 

* * *

 

 

“I lived alone before the Avenger’s initiative, it didn't necessarily help me control my rage, made it worse in fact, to not have it tested on the daily as Stark has me doing.” Banner tried to make light of the situation, “but I also had less reason to be angry. There are pros and cons but I know I am happier here amongst friends,” he spoke in a regular voice, calmed by the purple and blue watercolor that was the sky.

“That wouldn't have anything to do with Romanoff would it?” You mused, you could see what he was doing but he didn't share the same view as you.

“W-what's that suppose to mean?!” Suddenly his slow and deliberate breathing was hitched. “And you and Steve huh?” He lashed back.

Your brow furrowed. Is that what that looks like from the outside? “No, no, Steve just- a friend, well, he was-”

“So it's not that kind of complicated?” Banner wasn't as intune with the tower’s emotions as he thought, then again, a lot of that stuff passed him over.

“No, it's more, he's the hero and I'm the big nasty wolf from little red riding hood-” Making Bucky look good in rouge.

Bruce sighed, if you were a ‘bad guy’, what on earth did that make him? “You put so much on that boy in ninth grade. Can I ask what happened?”

If anyone were to understand what you felt, it would be Banner. Then in the light of the dying sun, you told him a story, and when that story was finished you left in silence, didn't let him say another word, returning to your room.

 

* * *

 

 

“What are you doing?” The scientist was leaning over the steel desk where you had wires sticking out of your own left arm connected to the partially reassembled metal appendage of the same nature, the table also held a bucket of ice and a heater.

“Calibrating sensory modules- but you knew that, so why are you asking?” You had a book of anatomy in front of you and you were poking at nerves within your shoulder with fine, latching wires to test the sensing capabilities of the arm. Soft and rough were off the table but cool and warm were debatable.

“I don't remember there being any sensory modules in the original build, you're so smart princess!” He gushed only half of it being flattery, he was prouder than he would let on.

You sighed. “What do you want Stark?”

“I just wanted to say- I may have been listening to your conversation with Banner last night,” he lowered his voice and was about to say more-

You're stomach pulled. “I figured you were using that camera in there to see Banner’s progress,” you spoke over him, there were times you saw the lens move. “What you heard, I don't want to talk about-” you tried to shrug off. On some level you often assumed Jarvis would give Stark highlights from the tower’s cameras before bed for his entertainment instead of usual television. He was always listening, and had the least trust of anyone.

“It's-” he started because as always he was bad with instruction. It wasn't until he listened the warping of metal from your grip on the table did he stop. “Okay, okay,” he held up his hands in a defensive manner as he backed down and went back under the bonnet of the mustang.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your movements are sluggish, I'm looking for nice clean lines, sharp as blades, not bendy noodles,” Natasha called, there was a slight echo in the training room, it was a nice upgrade from your apartment with the small floorspace amongst the books.

You felt exhausted. Every punch hit lower and lower, it was an effort to get a leg off the ground for a pivot kick. Your breathing was out of whack and your impact was weak. You felt like gravity was intensifying around you.

“Alright, just stop.” Nat sighed, she didn't know how you were going to make it out there if you kept acting like this.

You flopped to the ground feeling all your training at once.

“What's happening with you ______?” her face pulled, you were hiding a great many things when you used to be so transparent, you were pushing her away, you were pushing them all away.

Your throat was hurting from the laboured breathing. “I just need one of those energy drinks from the fridge- I'll be back at it in no time!” You peeled yourself up off the blue mat like a sweaty sticker.

“That will make three the in the passed day,” she narrowed her eyes at you.

Three- that she had seen. “I think they work differently on because because I'm weird,” you shrugged off, which was probably true.

She came to walk in step with you towards the kitchens. “What are you doing all night? Did you make up with Steve?”

“No- and no! Where on earth are you all getting this from?” you frowned, “-and you, are you staying up all night with Banner? How's that going?”

She cleared her throat- “it's not going- you're not- with Steve? that's odd we were all sort of rooting for you, you spend a lot of time-”

“Come on! So do you, it's Steve! Is Steve and I the only thing you can come up with to talk to Banner about?” You accused.

There was a faint blush on her perfect cheeks, “I am not sure what you mean.”

You hit the nail on the head didn't you? Those were the only two with that idea, instead of talking about their own relationship they envisioned one for yourself and Steve. You had thought Nat would be more of a go getter, someone who knew what she wanted and went for it. Maybe she needed a little help- an idea came into play, “can you tell Banner I won't be in the meditation room for sunset?” As one would think- she would stay longer than that. A secret sly smile played on your lips.

“Sure- is it because of what you told him last time?” Natasha and Clint had already pilfered the story out of you a long while ago.

You sighed, you only had good intentions here, “No- I think I'll just be going to bed- look at me,” you gestured with a laugh, you were on par with the thriller zombies again.

 

You weren't in your bed. You intertwined your fingers with the metallic ones, they had been crushed, you’d replaced the individual ‘bones’ with Stark metal. They moved in a natural sort of way, your hand fit perfectly in his.

“Princess!” Stark called.

You jumped to attention as if you weren't just deliriously thinking of the man who would soon be attached to that hand, as if you weren't just lacing fingers with it. Wondering what else it could do. There was an incriminating blush on your face.

Tony wasn't in the right apparel for this part of the tower where there was various dark and sticky liquids spilt around, instead he was in pyjamas. “Clint was looking for you, what the hell are you doing in here so late?”

“-I couldn't sleep, so I was-” you gestured to the hand flopping beside you.

“You're trying to get it finished before-” before you remember all you were, and potentially forget all of them.

“Yeah,” you half smiled, something like that.

Tony Stark frowned. “What are you doing with this?” Your laptop was sitting wrongside up, with evidence of butchering.

“The arm- needed a new power source, I change most of the wiring to fiber optics ..needed more power.” You spoke carefully.

“Suppose you wrapped it in that sheet of black metal over there?” He pointed, “so it doesn't end up like the last battery?”

“You suppose correctly,” you looked to the rest of the arm that simply needed it’s hand at this point. “It should be ready for you to fit him with tomorrow, you have to attach the wires to the nerves, there's injectors and a diagram-”

“All sounds too complicated, maybe next month-” Stark shrugged lazily rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You knew that wasn't true, anatomy wasn't his ‘thing’ nor was it yours but it was easy enough to do off a diagram. “Banner then-” you harrumphed.

“He doesn't do machine things, he’s all gamma and radiation, you know that.” He shrugged, “it was too below either of our pay grades.”

“Come on Tony, it's bad enough you talk me into building this thing, I have no business fitting it let alone being in that same room-” your brow furrowed, Steve didn't even want you sharing a hallway with Barnes.

“What is the harm? You'll be gone soon, he certainly can't harm you-”

“But _I_ could kill him,” You looked at him meaningfully.

“What happened to that boy-” Tony saw your face change, he knew he was on territory unwanted, “-it won't happen again.”

You looked down at the hand, “fine,” you agreed begrudgingly. It shouldn't take long, a hour job at most.

“Go get some sleep before then, you look like crap.” Your mood had perked up, but those circles under your eyes only got darker.

You squinted, watching him leave, you considered what he had said before leaning against the bench and taking another sip from your caffeinated drink. You would ask Banner in the morning.

 

* * *

 

 

You had a coffee in hand when you were giving last inspections. It was finished. The kit you had set up was perfectly ready, all you needed now was to pass it off on to Banner. You spun on your heel with arm in arms. There was someone who had been floating behind you, a figure you almost walked into. You gave a start and the arm and was abruptly thrown to the floor. “-shit.” You swore loudly. “How long were you standing there?”

Longer than he intended, “I didn't mean to-” James Barnes started, “I should come back-”

“It's fine Sergeant.” You stooped down, at least you know the black-metal cradle you used to protect the power source against ‘supernova’, is doing its job, “we’ll call it quality control.” You washed your eyes of the arm, hitching your glasses up, this arm should prepare for much large knocks than that.

“Stark said someone would fit me today-” the charming Bucky excused with a smile that spread from nineteen forty five.

You were stunned momentarily, there was no sign of the winter soldier that stopped had you in the halls. You widened your eyes to look at the clock ticking away in the corner of the room. You rubbed your face underneath your glasses. Eight a.m. “I’ll get Banner for you,” you dodged awkwardly, chrome piece back on the table.

“Bruce and Tony went on something Stark was calling a ‘science bros retreat’ for the day,” Bucky had tucked his hand in the front pocket of this khaki pants. “I thought you knew, he said an intern would do it.”

And like that you were parent trapped. “An intern huh?” You sighed. “-makes me rebuild it- then this?” You mumbled under your breath as you probably have spent too much time with Barton. You'd like to go a couple of rounds with Tony’s suit.

“That's what you're doing down here? You fixed my arm for me?” He sounded a little touched a fleeting expression came over his face.

You couldn't bring up just how unwilling you were to do so. “I should fix the things I break.” Builds character. You caved, Tony would go through with his threats of leaving it for months. You kicked Stark’s wheelie chair into the centre of the work floor with more force than was needed. “Let's get this done, take a seat.”

“You're going to- are you sure you want to do this now?- you look-” James started.

“I know.” You dismissed. If another person points out how tired you look you'll start cutting off eyelids so they know exactly how it feels. “I'll rest when it's over.” When it's all over.

Bucky wordlessly took his seat and you raised the chair so you would be eye level with his arm sitting on your own chair.

You then looked at him expectantly for a moment, expecting him to get the gist so you wouldn't have to voice it.

“-what is it?” His brows rose.

“You do know you're going to have to take off your shirt for me?” You both seem to swallow at that.

For you-? “Uh- yes, just-” he went for the hem of his shirt, not getting as far as he would like.

And you realised you had asked someone who wasn't used to having one arm to take off their own shirt. “H-here- let me,” you helped awkwardly, if you could call it that, tugging it over his head. Your mind played out the same scenario with a different context. Your hand burnt where there were some accidental grazing of skin.

You caught each other's eyes, you could see the rise and fall of his chest. He was god damn beautiful, he was sculpted by something sinister but he was an angel, he all but glowed. And you were tired on the point of delirium. You attempted to shake your head of any estranged thoughts.

Twirling in a swivel chair for your own posterior you inspected the mech that was still left on his body assuming where pieces would meet up. You removed the cuff banner had put on the remains of his left arm, it was hard to tell what exactly you were looking at, he was marred with scar tissue and metal parts. “Huh- your collar bone is made of metal,” you pointed out poking various areas.

James tried to cover up a sound he made turning his head away from you. The scar tissue was especially sensitive.

You didn't know what kind of noise that was- but you wouldn't be touching there again anytime soon. Or did you want to? You spun hurriedly on the chair to your table of instrument, opening tool boxes, sanitising your hands enough for a super soldier with super white blood cells.

“Is this going to hurt?” The ex sergeant asked finally thinking of something to say. He remembered all the other situations concerning these procedures, and he wished he didn't. Hydra didn't especially care for local anesthetic.

“-depends,” you turned back around in a blur.

Suddenly there was a sharp jab followed by a sound of ‘ _keh-tsh’_ as something was immediately injected into the remaining part of his arm. He hissed at you when he realised you had just stuck him with the anesthetic pen.

“Did that hurt?”

Returned a glare, “aren't you supposed to warn me before doing something like that?”

“Hurts more if you tense- and I think it's more fun this way,” you mused.

“I think you want me to get angry.” He ground out eyes narrowing.

Your lip twitched before you reminded yourself of what you were supposed to be doing. “There should be no more pain after this point.” You gathered a handful of long needles and alcoholic swabs and wheeled them over on a tray that usually house different sized nuts and screws.

“What are those?” He eyed the varying lengths of needless with wary.

“These are going straight to your nerve endings, they’re made of-” stuff only you and Banner got off on, and stuff Stark pretended he could create something better than. And probably could. You sifted through your paper diagrams rather than finish your sentence.

“Made of-?” Bucky prompted.

“Oh- I didn't think you were listening, that about the time Clint checks out,” you said absently lining up a shot with one of the needles. “They're made of a polymer that your body should accept as part of itself and heal if they deteriorate,” there was a woman in South Korea who was designing a machine that could use this stuff to print skin onto wounds that would otherwise need grafting. “It should also carry electric signals much like your current nerves already do.” You looked to his vacant expression remembering just when he was born. “-you didn't get a word of that, did you?”

A charming smile came over James, “I know that I like the sound of your voice.” And the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something that excited you.

Your ears felt slightly warm, your only response could be that you shot him in the arm with a wire that latched onto a nerve. “Just a couple more to go.” You pulled at the collar of your shirt slightly.

 

The garage was silent, you had wished you asked Jarvis to play one of your playlists to at least ease some of the tension. It seemed a little late now as you had most of the skeleton and moving parts on, you only had to add the outer casing. You were working so closely to him that you felt the warmth radiate from his body and at times felt his breath on your skin.

James sat there watching you, a furrow sat on his brow for a while before he said anything. “What happened with you and that boy in year nine?”

Your trusty spanner stayed in your hand as your body became rigid. “Why this all of a sudden?” You tried to pass off as if it were nothing.

“Stark was talking to Steve about it recently- told him to ask you about it.” It had been playing on his mind since that time you brought him back to himself, the time when you wore pink.

Of course Tony would. “Everything in this tower is recorded- if you ask Jarvis nicely I'm sure he'll spill everyone's secrets,” you spoke loud enough in hopes it would acknowledge the betrayal you felt. But it wouldn't, it was a computer.

“I want you to tell me,” he spoke in a hushed tone.

You rubbed your oiled hands off on a rag and reached for the next piece of the Bucky-puzzle. You'd already told the others at some point, he’d only hear about it one way or another, he told you how he had murdered families against his will, you probably owed him something. “I didn't fit in so great in school,” you bit at your lip, “like you- I came from an orphanage.”

You slotted the next plate in with a ‘click’, moved the arm to make sure it was in properly and went on. “I don't remember anything before then, not how to talk, not how to eat or how to act. They couldn't very well give me away so they forced me into school, not knowing my age they put me in the first year of high school.”

You rubbed oil around the newly appointed plate and then your hands on the rag and started the cycle over. “The teachers treated me different so the kids naturally came to dislike me, and when I became top of the class within a semester, they thought I was a cheat, or an alien or…” you clicked the next one into place. It wasn't as if you'd ever learnt anything from those teachers, they were things your mind already knew but were locked away somewhere.

“There was one more unkind than the rest,” it was always the way that there was a head honcho. “His name was Jordan Brooke, or just Brooks, he once sent me tumbling down a set of stairs, and when remarkably my leg twisted the right way around it became more of a game, imagine beating someone with no evidence to tell of- you can probably guess what happened from there.”

“You were alone,” it sounded like he was defending you.

“Yeah and now so is his Mum.” The next plate went in a little harsher than you expected.

James finched. He knew how that felt. “How did it- how did you-?”

“It wasn't uncommon for him and his gathering to stop me on my way back home. I wanted only to go back to my room and read my books, usually I could just wait it out and be free when it was over.”

You hands stopped working like you willed them to do, you came to twist the rag in your hands mercilessly. “H-he took it too far. I was backed to a wall.” You remember the sneers, the grins of anticipation, evidently they had spoken over this, had jeered and had planned. “They knocked the books from my hands, he undid his-” there was a ripping sound from the rag. “He pissed on my books and eventually-”

It seemed James had regained control of his arm as the half dressed mech formed a fist.

“I had never been so angry- so I punched him.” It was over so quickly, there wasn't even a chance for his face to form shock before it met with your knuckles, his throat opened up on impact, is head fell limp on his shoulder and was dead on his feet before he could put his dick back in his pants. You threw up then and felt like doing so currently. “when I let my fist fly he was half decapitated-” you swallowed bile. “I-I don't remember much more, only that a fire broke out. The kids often smoked behind the gym s-so everyone but that group of people thought he perished in the fire he started.”

“You didn't mean to-” he started.

“I don't need your consolation.” You spoke bluntly, working more diligently than before, wanting it to be over quicker. “I know what I wanted, and I know what I did.” A bittersweet smile played on your face, what did you think was going to happen? You had hit to kill. “I'm not a good person Sergeant.”

Barnes recounted every fight he had ever had, they trailed back to when he and Steve went to school. He had been born a smidge differently perhaps he would have been the one to remove Brook’s head.

The event was a slippery slope for you, it lead to starving, lessening your strength, locking yourself away, hiding, avoiding the weak and defenceless. Your strength was more than you could control, was more than someone like you should control.

“________,” the voice came from a direction you weren't expecting.

You discreetly wiped underneath your glasses with your sleeve, and looked to attention.

“Could I have a word when you're finished?” Steve stood with his arms folded over his large chest.

You could only imagine how long he had been there for. “Sure.” You spoke dismally.

 

“How's it feeling?” It had been a long while since either of you had spoken.

James had left you with your thoughts and mulled over his own. “Good-” his voice came out huskier than either of you were expecting as you had been working oil into it with your ripped rag, it felt like a massage.

“You lost your star in the buffing-” You stood, threading your fingers through the metal ones and moved it to check all the joints were working and bending in the proper ways. God forbid you put anything on backwards- you'd never hear the end of it from Tony.

“I'm glad it's gone,” he spoke coolly. He had been watching you as you worked and failed to make it discreet. He stared at where your fingers met. “Your hand- it's warm,”

The hand in yours, you now recognised his control over it, and that he had closed his fingers around your palm- “that would be the sensory modules- then I have done something right.” You had created them out of what you had learnt about electrodes and brainwaves from Stark and Banner. Your hand tingled all the way up to your elbow, you let go all too soon. “I guess I'm finished then, if you have any problems with it talk to Tony, he knows a lot more about these things than me, Banner will help you out with pain killers, you have a couple new holes you didn't have before-”

He felt it, felt his arm, like it was his again. It wasn't exactly like his fleshy arm but resembled feeling the world through a rubber glove and that was much more than he was used to. “You're perfect.” He knew what he wanted to say, it didn't come out as planned.

Your heart flickered and threatened to ignite.

“You- did a good job, it's perfect.” He passed it off with a smile that was as charming as the day he had lost it in the snow.

“I- thanks, it’s good, it looks good on you Sergeant.” You stuttered back, willing your legs to take you very far away from here, mentally kicking yourself. “Steve wants me- I should-” you stood from your wheelie chair to get away from the awkward air.

“And if I want you?” You felt a very familiar metallic hand secure your wrist. “Would you still leave me then?”

Your stomach tied itself in knots. You looked back to see winter’s glare, “there is no point looking at me like that- even with that arm I could leave you in the dust.” You stated coolly.

He tugged your wrist closer to his bare chest, and you with it. “One day I think I'd like to see you try.” His voice was a low growl. His eyes wondered lower.

Too bad for him you'd never willingly give in to the monster lurking underneath your skin. You slipped your hand away easily enough and with a smirk, kicked at the chair between his legs sending the winter soldier wheeling away from you. “You'd like that wouldn't you Winter?”

The soldier let out a groan.

 

Steve stood leaning leaning by your window, seeing your room the way it was- pulled at him. The books piled up further than he could have imagined, trails worn in the carpet from pacing- it had been a long time since the curtains were opened and so he did you the courtesy. He had never seen the home you had once shared alone but imagined it looked much like this, it felt lonely in here. How could you do this to yourself? He looked up as he heard you clear your throat.

“I-” you started, your eyes falling to your hands, “just need to-” you showed your fingers off and the black ooze that now stained them. You had hope that you could escape the impending storm for just a moment longer as you disappeared into the bathroom. What you hadn't anticipated was Steve Rogers following you. You traded gazes in the mirror as you lathered your hands up with a lavender hand soap that Banner had bought for you. You sighed. “Look, I know what you're going to say- Tony parent trapped me into doing Bucky’s arm. Him and I alone- won't happen again.”

“He didn't hurt you?” He verified.

“He is becoming very well behaved,” you rolled your eyes. Barnes was a grown ass man, he didn't need Steve picking up after him, and you could certainly handle it if he were anything but behaved.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft, his eyes the colour of rough sea.

You furrowed your brow. You didn't understand why he was asking, you had taken to scrubbing with a nail brush, machine oil and grease was such a bitch to remove. “I'm fine Steve.” You shut yourself off from him.

“You know what I mean-” he lowered his eyes as you shrugged him off again. “What happened with the kid wasn't your fault-”

You gritted your teeth, “would everyone stop treating me like a puppy who wet the carpet?! It's not- he’s..” you killed him. You ran your nails over your palms to peel some of the slop off.

“You can stop scrubbing, your hands are clean,” Rogers spoke in a soothing voice.

Looking again- he was right, the suds on your hands had turned an eerie pink where you had scoured to hard. Your wet, shakey fists gripped the basin and you gave Rogers a dark look.

“______, when was the last time to slept?” His usual look of Captain Compassion sat on his face. He brought you a towel for your broken hands.

You had no idea why he was treating you like this all of a sudden, after such a long time of ignoring your existence. “I don't remember.” You said bluntly avoiding looking at him as he started to dry your hands for you with the fluffy towel.

“When?” He hounded further.

“They say I'm not quiet about my dreams, when was the last time you heard me sleep?” When was it last that you screamed in the middle of the night like a mere child? You hated how weak it made you seem.

“-Last week,” it dawned on him, “you've not slept since then?” Steve hung the towel and pulled you along to your bed, dodging various volumes of books before leading you to sit down. “Rest now, I'll watch over you.”

Your mind wasn't comprehending so much, was his need to be a hero weighted so far that he would simply forget what you did to James? “Why are you doing this?”

“We’ll talk once you've had a full eight hours,” sure of himself that you'd simply comply he sat in the overseer’s chair. Of course you would comply, you must be on the verge of sleep at any given moment, you just needed the nudge.

“I'm not sleeping until I've left this tower.” You confessed, sitting eyed to eye with him across the room. You had more willpower than he'd ever give you credit for.

“I don't understand, in fact I don't understand why you're leaving, Clint loves you. -We all do,” his voice became heated, it felt like a slap in the face that you had decided this on your own, “we’re all saying goodbye with false smiles because we want what's best for you but-” you were being selfish.

You knew what you were being. “Love?” You scoffed, “you couldn't bare to look at me for the longest time-” though it wasn't anything you didn't deserve.

Steve did it again, avoided you on the bed looking to the horizon through the curtains he had opened. “Them then, why would you ever leave them?”

You felt your blood boiling, you fought back brewing tears. “Every time I close my damn eyes I see them die,” you were so tired, nightmares used to be one-ofs, one every two months maybe, they had grown though, bloomed into a constant. You felt like you were being hammered into the ground. “I see you get killed, over and over and over again. -I -I need to get out of this tower.”

Rogers brows drew, his voice warmed again. “You can't escape bad dreams simply by leaving Avenger’s tower.”

“You don't understand.” You brought your knees up to your chest, “it's my fault,” you bury your face in your hands. “You are killed every time- because of me, if I stay here, you'll all die.” If you leave the tower the dreams would lose their substance, if you had nothing to do with the avengers, how could they come true then? Weight shifted on the bed and Steve was beside you, you felt the welcoming touch of him messing your hair up good and proper.

“I can't do right by you can I?” He felt like a rather useless hero and an even worse friend, “I leave you to Shield in this tower, leave you to fend for yourself, leave you to be tortured. I let Bucky hurt you and in return make you search for him and bring back him to your safe place. And finally, thinking I'm doing what's right in separating him from you- I isolate you further.” Clint had said you would do anything for him and because of it he let you down, alone in here your dreams felt real, felt like premonition.

He was looking out for you? You wiped at your face as your glasses became foggy. “Whatever is wrong with me isn't your fault Steve,” your mouth pulled, “I didn't tell you what happened on the shoreline because you had enough on your plate.” He was a man who had lost everyone, you didn't want to dash any hopes of finding someone by confessing something Bucky did to you. “And I almost killed Sergeant Barnes the night I brought him back you had every right to pretend I didn't exist.”

“That's not how he tells it,” Steve tried to lighten your mood, “I wasn't ignoring you- it's only Bucky-”

You nodded Steve didn't blame you for what happened in the warehouse, but it didn't change the fact did you did it. “I understand,” Bucky is his best friend and he needs Steve more right now, he is the only one he’s got.

“Thank you for fixing his arm, if seeing him gives bad memories, you don't have to-”

“No- it's okay, it was Hydra not him, but Steve- I'm still leaving when I'm finished with my stalker.” You would not be the reason for their deaths.

Rogers let out a breath. “Okay _____,” he spoke as though he wasn't finished on the subject. “I'll see how you feel about it after you've slept.”

You gave him a false glare. You heart felt warmer, the hole in your stomach; smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a long chapter  
> It's a chapter that didn't exist before so this is new writing not three years old, got a little montage-y in the middle there.. hopefully it read fine  
> Thank you for reading and your support for this story  
> and your 163 kudos c,: THats a lot of peeps out there  
> Both of my stories are going on the back burner for a while because my workload has increased and has squashed me  
> I am saving for my next course with art commissions, they're fun- but they're killing me D:


	16. Cliche intense flash back

_The man was large, so much so that the average would have to risk straining muscles in their neck to observe the crimson of his eye. His kingdom was ice the same hue as his skin, everything the cold touched was his and in turn everything froze. Death, it spread like a hush over a crowd until the universe was silent but him- and you. And you were aware. You also weren't as solitary as expected. Two stood in front and away from you, between you and him, one you recognised with shoulder length brunet waves and one you did not, his hair the colour of ravens, long and more uniform. You called out for them both. It did not matter, whatever the tall man chose to freeze- did._

Before you could recognise your surroundings you felt a pair of muscular arms around you. Shivering in a false tundra, you accepted the embrace more than willing, your fingers curling in the back of his tee shirt, snuffly nose buried in his shoulder. “-you stayed,” you held on tighter.

“Of course I stayed,” he chuckled as if your expectation of him leaving, didn't sting.  
You missed this. You missed all of this. You didn't care how much of a child you appeared to be, you didn't care how helpless and feeble you looked because your Captain still loved you and had stayed to watch over you. You weren't alone. You were wanted. “Thank you,” you were muffled by his blue clad chest.

Steve pulled back, “will you be okay here while I get a cup of milk from the kitchen?” He wiped at hair that was sticking at your forehead.

You wanted so badly to say you were perfectly capable of getting your own or that you could go with him, but the truth was, you were weak, it was dark out and you were still exhausted. You wished he didn't have to treat you like a child- but right now, that's what you might as well be. “I'll be okay,” you tried not to speak dimly.

“I won't be long,” he promised in blue eyes. He mentally kicked himself again for leaving you alone when Nat and Barton were on missions, these weren't simply nightmares, they were an illness. You look feverish, like you hadn't spent a moment of that time asleep. A betraying part of his mind wonder how Bucky was dealing with his own.

 

The images flicked over your mind in the time that Steve was gone. You could see the blank look of James Barnes’ corpse staring back at you. The other figure had never turned around but you had seen enough of his blood to know he had died as well. The monster had shattered them like frozen statues, the scene became a butcher’s freezer very quickly.

-Someone was in here with you, you were alerted by a drumming heartbeat. “-Steve?” You questioned the shadows hesitantly.

“I'm not your darling Rogers,” the darkness countered with ice. “-You were dreaming about me.”

You flinched at the sudden figure at your bedside. You had been so in your own head that you hadn't noticed that he had let himself in. You felt suddenly self conscious of the damp sweat on your face and in your hair, of how much of a mess you appeared. “-how’d you know that?” You tried running a hand through your hair so it didn't seem so sweat-drenched and looked up at him gauging who you were currently addressing.

“You were screaming for me in bloody murder.” James’ expression shifted between a smirk and a sneer, his brows low and his gaze dangerous.

You swallowed.

“What was I doing to you in this dream?” His smirk increased.

‘You weren't doing anything but being dismembered’ was on the tip of your tongue, but it wasn't a confession you wanted to make. Despite your time around him, you weren't ready to open everything to him. He didn't need to know how crazed you really were.

“Was it something like this?” He stepped closer, his gaze dark.

You felt the welcoming cool of the hand you had rebuilt for him, touching the side of your face. You wanted to lean into him as he was leaning over you- if things kept going like this- a blush ran throughout your body making you seem less sickly pale.

“Or was it something like this?” As his hand caressed downward it ended at the base of your throat and snapped into violence. Anything tender about this touch disappeared and his sudden grip on your neck became severe.

You gained a scowl. It wasn't harsh enough to choke you out- “why are you doing this?” You growled.

“It was- wasn't it?” Flecks of anger came over him, his choke on you intensified.

“It -wasn't.” You gasped and reached for the metallic hand, only to be intercepted by the other pinning it over your head, a mirror image of what you'd done to him his first night in the tower. Winter still wasn't putting enough pressure on for this to turn fatal. What did he want from this? “Why-?” you could only wheeze.

His nose wrinkled in snarl, “do I scare you?” Was it his horrid self that made you scream out into the night?

Slowly your hands went slack to him, you gave into him, he wasn't going to hurt you. The flower slowly died from your face. -The false-danger in his grip, he wanted to make you scared of him, wanted to push you further away. To what end? “I'm not -afraid of you,” there were real monsters out there.

He gritted his teeth, why couldn't you just hate him? Yours wouldn't be the first nightmares he had inflicted. He wanted you to scream or thrash, fight back- anything. For all he's done- needed to be hated, his grip weakened and his eyes watered.

“Get away from her,” A voice across the room commanded. Your Captain was unlike you'd ever seen him, his blue eyes lit with anger, a glass of humble milk in his hand.

“It's okay Steve,” you reassured, the last thing Bucky needed was the wrath of Captain America upon him. You moved to sit up but the Winter Soldier’s glare still glinted from above, shoving you back down. You returned the same pointed look. Why was he making this worse for himself? He wasn't going to get any better if he pushed everyone away- you knew this from experience.

A twitch came to the soldier’s lips looking at you on the bed, “I'm I making you jealous?” Came winter’s low voice he eyed Steve and then back to you.

The glass was placed on the nearest flat surface. “I told you to stay from her,” Steve reprimanded again, this time seizing Winter’s shirt collar. "I know you don't truly want to hurt her, but you just can't help yourself can you Bucky?"

“Would you two quit it?!” You exclaimed brushing away the soldier’s hold on you. Steve was your bro, but he didn't have to baby you- was he expecting this to get out of hand? Was it that he didn't trust you to not throw James out the window of your residential suite?

Bucky looked to you and then back to Steve, then frowned at himself as if realising what he was still doing here. “Steve- I'm sorry, I'm- so sorry,” he stumbled out in disbelief. “I need to leave,” there was a sad crescent on his lip as he gave you one last longing look.

Everything he did made more mess.

“It's okay-” you nodded. You let out a breath watching the winter soldier leave as quietly was he had come in.

“-I don't know what gets into him around you,” Steve walked over to the stack of books that held your cup of milk, and handed it to you.

You knew what it was, the two of you brought out reactions in each other that were explosive and poisonous at the same time, you were the water to his potassium, it wasn't normal or healthy. You should stay away from Bucky, but he needed Steve. You didn't want to come in between them. You took a swig of your milk. “You should see if he is okay,” you tried to sound supportive adorning a white mustache, you knew it's what he wanted to do.

“He’ll be okay, he just needs time,” he tried to shrug off.

“Come on Steve, he needs more than time,” your brows drew together.

“I'm not going to leave you alone,” he petted you nicely on the head.

“I'm sure Clint’s around, Bucky’s- only got you,” you attempted a smile.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Rogers scoffed. But felt his heart tug, you built his arm and now faced the nightmares alone for Bucky? You were Steve’s kind and noble princess, there was no negotiating that.

“Maybe I am,” you mused, running an unsteady hand through your hair, “I hear dinosaurs do better in pods,” you smirked.

“Is that so? Well then, I'll send Clint for you,” Steve promised, taking steps away from you.

“That won't be necessary, let him sleep,” he had already lost enough to you. “Nat bought me this book I've been meaning to read-” you drained the rest of your milk off, reaching for one of the many unwanted romances- they were all you had left unread.

Rogers spied your dark eyes, guilt weighed at him. “I'm sorry,” he spoke in a whisper.

“What for? Tomorrow I'll have remembered everything, what will I have to fear tomorrow?” But the past that would haunt you and the person you were to become.

 

* * *

 

 

“You've finally come for your rematch,” a corner of that sly smile lifted, “I won't make it easy on you,” Sam Wilson was dress in grey sweats standing in the morning glow at the base of Star Tower.

You heaved and armful of weights into the pavement after your lazy ass took as many as you could in one go, trudging the stairs of the weights room to the outside world. “No- some of us have to actually work or something,” you stated sarcastically. You too were dressed in sweats, dark ones Nat had purchased for you along with a pair of trainers she swore by.

“Hey I'm just between missions okay?” It was nice to see you with your humour intact. “Just what are you doing anyway?” The bird was intrigued.

“Clearing out the weights room- that's where Tony has decided to set up our memory experiment.” You started walking back towards said room, leaving the weights in plain sight, quite sure of yourself that no one could actually steal any.

Wilson followed you down the stairs, “so you're really going through with it?” His brows drew.

“It's not like I can stay in the tower for the rest of my existence,” you grimaced, squatting to pick up two fives and a two. From here you could see a couple of cardboard boxes that had been moved in, including a flat pack steel chair that was waiting for you to put it together. What fun.

“A year ago that's all you wanted to do,” Sam reasoned with you.

You sighed carrying the dumbbells out, had it been so long? “I'm not getting anywhere here Sam, this is a step in -a direction” you placed your payload on the ground outside.

“Then how about a run- for old times sake?” For some reason Wilson’s smile faltered before he could make it.

You thought on it for a moment. All that was waiting for you now was that flat pack- “sure, but- no weights this time,” a smile spread across you as Sam’s dumbfounded look.

 

“On your left,” you giggled, again.

“Come on man!” Sam yelled after you but you were already meters in front.

“One more and I'll run with you,” you promised calling after you to the man getting further and further away. You felt free. You troubles were far away in that tower on the other side of the park, along with that chair that was waiting for you.

The air was delicious and fresh, it was as if you had forgotten what that was like, this was a beginning, the beginning of you stepping out. Running, you spied the blue of a certain captain, you sped up. Making tracks, “on your left,” you called with a mocking grin.

Steve almost faltered, you being the last person he expected to see running. His stun soon replaced with his competitive nature. “I don't think so,” he tried to match you for speed.

It was only then that you saw his company, you had been day dreaming too far away to have noticed James earlier.

Bucky seemed content in pretending you didn't exist, he couldn't even look at you.

“Oh, I think so, “ you jeered with less heart, this time running faster with the intention of getting away from such a situation. Steve was a little ways behind you, but not by much, only seeing the game of the situation and James matched his pace as if disinterested.

Salvation came to you in the form of the grey clad Sam Wilson, you slowed down to jog beside him.

“On your right,” Rogers rubbed into Sam and yourself, passing through.

James didn't return your gaze as you watched him run past.

“Does everyone have to do that?!” Wilson implored feeling very human.

“Where is the fun if you don't?” You questioned, you tried to joke but felt your insides hurt unjustifiably instead.

 

“It just isn't fair if you go without the weights!” Sam exasperated, exhausted.

“Probably,” you couldn't match his upbeat mood walking towards the entrance of the exercise room.

“About time you got here,” Steve chuckled his arms folded over his wide chest and Bucky floating, impassive at his side. The two were on the footpath out front of Stark’s building- Rogers ready to gloat, “does this mean you'll join us for a sparring session?” The captain chirped, bringing you easily into a headlock as you came close enough, walking with you like that towards the underneath of Stark tower.

“You know you can count me in,” Sam volunteered himself.

You appreciated all that Steve was doing with a smile, but it wouldn't work with you and Bucky in the same room, plus, “No- I've got a chair to build,” you pushed off, getting dragged down stairs.

“Oh- you mean this chair?” Stark stated loudly as you were halfway into what was the weights room, that now sat a metallic, unsettling dentist chair supporting large mechanical arms overhead. “While you were out playing, Banner and I took the liberty of doing your job- of which you had one of,” he said with every ounce of his modesty.  
Truth be told, there was Banner milling with a few computers being set up. “He complained about it longer than it took to set up,”

“Did he say it was ‘below his pay grade’?” You scoffed, Steve finally released you to stand at your full height.

“What is this?” Barnes spoke to the first time that morning, looking as if he may become hostile at any moment.

You looked at the situation from his point of view and realised this was a setup that he had nightmares about, that was the exact chair they used to wipe his memories. “Relax- the chair is for me,” you shrugged off coldly.

James looked at you with fear in his eyes, fear you couldn't place. Was it for you or was it out of distrust?

“You guys get going,” you wore your best false smile, it was getting pretty convincing, at least you figured. “I'll see you when it is over.”

“S-sure,” This was all sort of sudden, had you thought this through? The stunned Sam Wilson patted you numbly on the back.

“No- want to stay for this,” Steve blurted.

“It's okay-” you started to reject him, so he could go and take Bucky with him.

“No room- too much science,” Stark was leaning over yet another computer.  
You shot him a thankful look for his piss poor excuse.

“______,” Steve turned to you, his hands found your shoulders. “You don't have to do this,”

Your eyes darted between the three of them, in fact, the five of them- how many times had you seen them each die? In how many different ways? Countless and for that reason- “yes I do,”

 

You were only in your training bra, practising soothing breaths. In two, three, four. Hold two, three. Out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. You rear was placed in the chair, your head rested back. It had taken some time to set things up, but the three of you made swift work of it.

You averted your eyes as Bruce started placing, electro dots over your chest. “These should stop the electricity from creating any irregulation in your heart’s rhythm,” he explained as he placed another.

You nodded numbly.

“_______, have you got the- er,” Banner couldn't find the word, he gestured to his own face.

“-bite guard?” You tried on a reassuring smile, but you were nervous.

“Yeah,” Bruce was looking but he wasn't seeing you.

“Princess, this isn't going to be pleasant- I hope you know this.” There was the orange glow of a holoscreen on Stark’s features.

“I know,” you didn't sound confident, your mind started to create excuses for skipping out on this, but it all boiled down to you being tired. You just wanted to sleep freely, to own a cat and for the only one to have to worry about you to be yourself. You had to do this.

“I- don't think I can be here for this,” Banner finally admitted what was on his mind. Seeing you in pain- the other guy wouldn't like it.

“Good- we don't need you,” Tony was sounded confident in himself as always.

You heart gave a small sinking motion. “I understand,” you continued with your brave act. “I will see you afterwards Banner,” you gave a hopeful smile.

“I'm sorry,” he frown- it looked for a moment that he was going to hug you or touch your shoulder but he awkwardly thought better of it. “Good luck,” he nodded before stepping for the elevator.

“It's just us now Princess,” Stark was finalising some things on his screen.  
You scrunched your eyes closed and told yourself that it was going to be over soon.

“Scared?” Tony asked offhandedly, coming to stand in front of you.

“And you wouldn't be?” You flaked a little.

“The science is sound -and you've come back from the dead before-”

“But what if I come back- different?” Your hands gripped the sides of the chair. What if you came back without humanity?

“If there is another person in there-” he touched the side of your head, “then we'll help you remember who you really are,”

It was the most tender you had seen Tony Stark. “Thank you Tony,” you gave a short smile.

As if he realise how much of himself was showing he moved quickly to attend to the screen once more. “You're going to have to put the bite guard in now.”

You placed the guard in your mouth, and rested back in the chair. You knew how it all worked, you had help build the thing, but you were still taken off guard as the restraints secured your arms down. This was it. You were trapped.

“It's going to be okay,” Stark promised.

As much as there were times you wanted to throw him out of a window- you trusted Tony Stark with your life. You closed your eyes as a probe entered the back of your neck, jumped and you bit down on the guard. You could hear the arms swing down around your face.

You didn't know if you wanted to do this anymore- you weren't ready, you didn't think this through. That's when the electricity started. It licked at your face, it burnt, it had your muscles convulsing and sent your brain reeling. You called in pain out but were muffled by the guard you had all but bitten in half. It felt like pins were being drilled into your head. You saw the ceiling, your eyes open in shock, images also flickered behind them, ones not of this room.

You were in a field. The field had sparse, yellowing grass. There had been a battle held here, there evidence was all around you- bodies, weapons lay strewn about, gushes of blood left patches darkened earth in itwake. A smell of copper and burning was in the air. There was an orange glow in the field. You looked down at yourself, saw your naked feet, saw gold plates of armour on your forearms, saw the white dress that ended at your ankles. Finally, you realised the white metal spear you held at your side, its tip smeared crimson, the liquid dripped down onto your hand- stained your armour, staining you.

You were covered in blood, standing alone in this field of bodies, you could say it was simply an image, that you didn't have all the facts but you felt it deep down- you had killed everyone on this plain, of which, there were many.

You dropped the spear and stumbled back, the orange glow grew. You were a monster. You had killed- hundreds. You didn't want to know anymore- you wanted it to stop but it was scene you couldn't look away from. You couldn't close your eyelids, every time you averted your eyes another gaunt, greying corpse stared back at you, accusing. This is what you did- this is what you are, there was no escaping.

The bright burning glow became all encompassing, the field was on fire. The Flames cleaning away your foul deeds. There was a face, sergeant James with a fierce look in his eye, he was carrying you. You felt him all around you in the fire’s warm glow. You buried your face in his wide chest, there you were safe from what you've done.

“I've got you,” he promised and you believed him.

There was no more pain, your eyelids began to pull, they felt heavy as you were finally able to close them. Your head lulled and you fell into a sleep you had not known for months.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones a little shorter than usual  
> I hope you like where things are going  
> And that you've got some theories  
> I love you comments and thank your for your 193 kudos c:  
> Thank you for reading- I'll try to make more time for this.


	17. Your family is a Baker

“-ugghhhhhhh,” you woke with a long winded groan, your body wanting to peel itself from the bed but you weren't quiet functioning and pulled off a bit of a flop in bed. Your mouth tasted like a dirty ashtray, your hair also smelt of a dirty ashtray, in fact, if you had to describe yourself- you felt very much like a dirty ashtray. “What the fuck happen?” You moaned.

“Something went wrong with the wiring -I think,” you raised yourself enough to see, to your surprise, it was Tony who was addressing you. One arm across his chest and the other hand by his mouth as if studying you, his fingers hindered by a couple of bandages that look out of place on his usual business casual-do. “The entire machine spontaneously combusted,” he made an explosive motion with his hands.

Guess that would explain your change in scenery, you were now situated in the hospital wing. Again. “-the fire was real.” You thought back over the images the machine showed you. You gained a sinking feeling in your gut. “Is everyone okay?” Your voice became small.

“Jarvis had the fire out before it could spread much further, thankfully, our mustang is fine-”

“But James isn't-” it was Clint who interrupted, he was off to the side in his hawk’s chair.

Your heart gave a double beat. “What's wrong with him?”

Barton look curiously at your now worried expression. “He was the one to pull you out-”

“I would have done it-” Tony almost sounded sulky, “I need to speed up the response times on my suit,” or find a way of wearing it more permanently.

“What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?” You asked again.

“Just a little smoke inhalation, a couple of burns,” Banner waltzed in with his clipboard, “I'm keeping an eye on him but I think he’ll be fine, those super soldiers are tough- it’s you I am worried about,”

You frowned, you didn't see why, you checked over all your limbs,if you had been burnt there were no signs, hell, your hair wasn't even singed. “I feel fine,” your brow creased.

“I imagine so now, we left you to rest for three days-” Banner stated.

“Steve told me you've been skipping sleep,” Clint sounded hurt, “______- why didn't you tell us?” didn't you trust him anymore?- he knew it was bad and that you had lost a lot of shut eye, but not to the extent Steve had described. Rogers had treated you so badly recently, and yet, it was still him you opened up to, there was a sting to your actions.

“I didn't want to worry you anymore,” you looked down at your sheets, you missed the brain function after a full night's rest. The way you'd been acting, treating your Avengers as if they didn't matter to you as much as they do. “I'm sorry,” you mumbled.

“Boring.” Stark said simply, escaping feeling as much as he could, “but what is interesting, is whether or not the explosion was worth it,”

“-Tony,” Banner interrupted-

The iron man completely ignored his brother in science, a curious glint in his eye, “what do you remember?”

Despite what Bruce had said he too started looking at you with anticipation, in fact the whole room had eyes on you.

You swallowed. Do you tell them you're a mass murdering killing machine? Was your vision literal- did you really go around in golden armour before all this? No, you knew you killed those people but the context was unfathomable, symbolism over reality? “I remember a fire,” which wasn't all that untrue, “which turns out that was real- suppose that means we’re back to the drawing board?” Except you no longer intended to learn about the creature you were in fear it would take you over.

“No- there is no way we're torturing you that again,” Clint stood up. It wasn't like he had an ulterior motive here, it’s not like he wanted you to stay the way you were or anything.

“Calm down mother hen,” Stark ushered him to sit, “we can come up with precautions, we can tweak the system to be less- painful.” His dark eyes flickered to you, like a delicious puzzle to put together.

“Yeah, and what if it blows out again?” The hawk folded his arms across his chest defiantly.

“It won't happen again, scout’s honour, right Banner?” Tony put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder as if to group him in with himself.

“Hey- don't bring me into this, it's up to _______,” but there was a glint in Banner’s eye, admittedly Stark made him incorrigible.

“You're going to get her killed! Is your little science project worth this much to you Tony?! She is a human being not some rat you find in a lab.” Barton was becoming more riled with each word.

“Maybe Clint’s right, I'm not quite ready to that over again-” it was for the best you didn't remember. “Or at least, not until the science is perfect, let's not run into it like last time.” You would stall if forever if you could.

Tony shrugged, “Perhaps using nazi technology was a little rushed,” he wore a contemplative face, “I'll come up with some fresh ideas-”

“You tell us when you're ready _____,” Banner put on his most comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you nodded.

 

You inspected the weights room alongside Clint- you were curious of the aftermath, there was cleaning that had been done but the chair sat where it was, the char marks were centered on where you sat. The restraints were peeled back like tin foil. Bucky really saved you?

“Tony is too reckless, I know you look up to him- but he is dangerous ______,” Barton told you as you examined the chair.

You frowned, well, there was that time he got you trapped in a cage with a tiger and the time he unleashed the hulk in the science lab- and this chair. You hadn't really thought about it before. “You're saying I should stay away from him in his own tower?” You mused.

“Nothing like that, just- know you don't have to do everything he says.”

Was this the speech he was going to use on his little girl when she started dating? “He means well, I think. And you, do I have to do everything you say Mum?” You chuckled.

“Of course,” a rare smile played on his lips.

You touched the blackened steel where your head would have rested. “I understand why my skin hasn't any burns, they would have heal- but how is my hair not singed?” You wondered out loud. In fact, the scorch marks seemed to emanate from a body shape- you had been on fire. You were glad you couldn't quite remember it like that.

Clint flinched to imagine the scene that happened in this very room. “Maybe it grew back? -

James was the only one who saw you- in the chair.” Barton grimaced. Tony dived in cover and waited for his suit- the man wasn't much use without it.

Bucky was the only one who knew what happened in here. Your stomach made a loud and sudden protest after three days without delicious Stark-tower cuisine.

Clint broke out into a broader smile, “hungry?”

You nodded fervently.

 

“______!- What are you doing?” The man who smelt of apple pie waltzed into your room, it being the first time he saw you since you woke up from your hibernation.  
You glanced up from the pages of Natasha’s sad attempt at jumpstarting your love life- which was a rather self indulgent read, not that you'd admit. “Fucking a spider.” You turned a page.

“Eh, excuse me?” The forties soldier looked vaguely repulsed.

“Steve- what does it look like I'm doing?” You waved the book with the raunchy front cover at him. You were laying with your knees up, half covered in a blankets.

“But you've just woken up, it thought you'd be training with Romanoff or building that car-” but you were just in this dark room again.

You tried to smile, you didn't want to concern him. You only wanted to stay here, scrunch up in a ball and do as little damage as you could to the world. Your head was a whirlpool, things had only gotten worse, memories of dead soldiers were plaguing you, some you didn't think you had witness the first time around. The list was growing. On top of all things, you were nowhere near knowing what was after you, then there were the nightmares waiting on you. “I just wanted to read this book,” you shrugged.

“-I heard the experiment didn't work like you planned,” Steve came to sit by your feet, his voice dimmed.

“It's okay- I think I'm going to give up on that venture,” your voice was muffled by pages. Your life was an impasse, there were no longer roads forward, you had submitted to the dark hole within and would now live in it.

The way you spoke, it sounded to Steve as if you had given up on all ventures, you were resigning yourself to this. Rogers looked around your room, he wasn't going to have bar yourself in here again. “I hate seeing you like this-”

Your brows drew. “There's nothing wrong with me,” you defied, your head in the book.

“I can see through your bull shit,”

Your eye widened. What did the good mannered Steve Rogers just say? You swallowed and looked through the small crack in your curtains. “Language.” You tutted becoming quiet. You were never a particularly good liar.

“Something happened in that chair, didn't it?” Those blue eyes bore directly into you.

“Its nothing to concern yourself with,” you were looking back to the pages but not seeing words.

There was an elaborate sigh before the book was plucked from your hands.

“Hey- what's that for?” You reached for where he had it in his hand but he moved it away.

“Steve- give it back!”

“What- you want this book?” Instead Rogers stepped away from the bed, baiting you with the novel, waving it in front of you.

With a scowl, you stepped from the bed, you didn't know what he wanted to accomplish with this, but it wasn't going to work. You made for a fast snatch but he was quicker than you were, dodging easily. “Come on- you're being childish,” you put your hands on your hips. That was Tony’s shtick.

“Childish?” he scoffed, “this coming from you!”

You glowered, what was that supposed to mean? You made another pass for the book.

Steve moved pretending not to notice your attempts, opening the book- “just what are you reading in here princess?”

A chill ran up your spine- “Nat gave it to me,” you excused hurriedly, becoming more determined to grab the novel back.

“Her sun-glazed back formed a golden arch as,” he almost choked, “he moved his face toward her happy meal-” he had meant to be teasing you but found himself looking mortified, “what have you been reading?!” He suddenly eyed your masses of books with renewed suspicions.

“I told you,” you ground out, your cheeks ablaze, “Nat bought it for me!” You moved towards the novel with vigor, to save him for reading anymore.

A playful smile stretched his lips. He started making for the door, dodging your poor attempts at the filth in his hands. “He awoke her slumbering womanhood with his double tall loin latte. ‘Starbuck!’ She cried.-” His voice was loud enough to be heard down the halls. His cheeks were a shade of crimson not unlike that on the American flag. The things he degraded himself into doing- all for you.

You swallowed, what had gotten into him?! What if Clint heard? You could feel him tutting from here, and Stark- he’d only join in. Worse. James was out there somewhere. You sped after him. “Stop!” You called after him, your face was the colour of absolute embarrassment.

“Claire felt swept away by this dark stranger, a helpless dust bunny in the roaring cacophony of his-” despite his usual reserved nature he laughed heartedly, “gas-powered leaf blower.” The lines he was reading echoed, ricocheting off the walls of the stairwell as he got further and further away.

He was already floors below you. “Steve!” You yelled after him, jumping over a rail, launching yourself towards where he had left the stairwell, tearing down the hallway he then took.

When you next saw him he stood in the centre of a room the book in hand, his face screwed up as his eyes trailed further down the page- seems he couldn't bring himself to read out loud any more of the page. He knew exactly how to get you out of bed- the follow through was unbecoming of himself though, he felt the need to wash his own mouth out with soap.

This time you were sure he wouldn't pull away, it seemed he wanted the book as far away from him as possible at this point. You walked up to him and reached confidently for the novel. And so, were dazed when suddenly your arm was blocked and your legs were swept out from underneath you.

“You're going to have to try harder than that if you want your-” he grimaced, “reading material back,”

You didn't land as harshly as you'd expect from such a fall, like a bull with a cape, you hadn't realised your surrounding- you butt had met with the blue mats of the training room when Steve tripped you up.

“I see what you’re doing,” you stood slowly, “I don't spar with anyone anymore Steve-” not after what you did to Nat, “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Oh- you think you can hurt me?” Steve scoffed, putting the book in his back pocket.

You looked unconvinced by his bravado.

“Fine,” he sighed, defeated, “you can leave if you want.”

You grimaced, he could have the stupid book if it came at such a cost, you'd be dismayed by the other avengers teasing you with it, but you weren't all that embarrassed, you should be proud your reading- except for maybe James knowing about it. He'd think of you as sleaze wouldn't he-? Why should that matter to you? You turned around and headed for the door. It didn't matter.

Steve was somehow in front of you again. You frowned. You sidestepped and he mirrored you.

“What are you doing? I told you that you could leave,” the captain said seriously.

“You're being an idiot!” You exasperated.

“You're free to go-” there was a competitive glint in his blue eyes.

You gave a glare before trying to push passed Steve Rogers. The blond grabbed an arm before pressing his palm to your middle and shoved you with enough force to leave you a splayed pancake on the ground once more.

Captain America presented you with his most charming grin, “how did you get down there?” He asked innocently offering you a hand.

You stared down that hand, you wanted to wipe that shitty smile from his face. Underhandedly, not taking the outstretched hand you swung your leg out, sweeping at his shins sending him tumbling. Giving you enough time to escape-

“Not so fast-” As you shifted from the floor to a crouch a pair of arms caught you around the middle you gave a squeak before he threw you back to the ground and pinned you. “You're getting soft Princess,” Rogers chuckled.

You let out a huff before booting him off you. This time you stood before he could recover, Steve became himself upstanding, by doing a badass kip up. You defended against another grab, you ducked a sudden swing too. In your defensive measures you hadn't realised that he had situated himself in between yourself and the door once more. “You should stop this before you get hurt.”

“You're being a bit arrogant don't you think ______,” Steve picked up the pace in his attack.

You had the defend quicker, and speed was never your ally, he got some jabs in on you- and they stung more than anything else he'd ever hit you with. Your blocks started bruising your arms. If he wasn't smiling you would think he was actually trying to kill you. He kicked you hard enough for you to stumble backwards and you found yourself in a daze. Had you gotten weaker?

“Suppose that's what I get for going easy on you before?”

“Going- easy?” You said high pitched. Somewhere along the way you'd forgotten- this was Captain America.

 

You felt a lot like a crumpled piece of paper, you were spread out on the blue mat like a steamroller had driven over you but a shiny grin adorned your face, it was rather nice to know your captain could still rather beat you to a pulp. You were a purple blotched cow, best you got in on your captain was a slight split in his lip, he was too quick.

“You have gotten soft,” Steve reiterated as he laid next to you with a grin on his face, “you should spar more with Natasha, it would make her happy.”

“You saw what I did to her,” you groaned. You wanted to go soak in a bathtub for a while.

“She has set her sights on you as her student, you have to know it's not often she lets anyone in that close,” though if you grew much more, he didn't know how well he would fair against you.

You frowned considering this- you hadn't thought about it that way, she was still so standoffish, was she really giving you special treatment? “I'll think about it.” You gave a stretch.

“Do you want to- tell me what happened in that chair?” Steve probe gently staring up at the ceiling.

You let out a loud sigh. Just when you were forgetting. You shifted to your side away from him, you could smell the stench battlefield, vaguely you could make out screams.

“Is it that bad?” Rogers digressed.

“Imagine the worst of me- and times that by at least a couple of hundreds,” a couple hundred dead people. “-Steve, I think I'm harbouring something very wrong in here,” you tapped your head, “I never want to remember,” your voice became a whisper and you curled in on yourself.

Steve sat up and looked over you. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to- who you are here and now is all that matters to me and the others.” Rogers patted your head. A darker part of his mind wondered if you and him would share the same side of you ever remembered.

 

_She was beautiful, a thing created in sorrow and anger. Passionate fury boiled the fire in her stomach, fury born from the loss of a child. She struggled and she fought, she cried vengeance and she yelled for her dead young but that made no difference. Three were sent for her end. You were the one to deal her the final blow, after you slew her- you waited and watched the lights fade from her eyes. Was it for pleasure? There was laughter- cold as the ice throne he sat upon. The one who you feared most -He was applauding you._

You woke crying, the tears didn't stop running, you forced yourself into sleeping to stop Clint worrying, but that wasn't the hell you were accustomed to. It was new. Stark’s chair- had it loosened something? Had you really killed a mother in mourning? You felt revolted.

You keeled over the bowl of your toilet and stayed there for a while, in the cool tiled floor of your bathroom. What were you to do? You felt for the small key around your neck. Should you be trusted with those objects? What did you really what to do with them? You swallowed, it was as if you had hit a wall in your mind, you couldn't think like that. You had to protect those things, the plaque and the orb, it would be bad if you didn't. But what did bad mean to you? You ran your jittering hands through your sweaty hair. You needed a drink of milk.

You were behind the bar in the common room, illuminated only by the fridge's light, you had already polished off a whole carton and were contemplating a second- maybe you should bother Tony for a small fridge in your room, but then you'd lose the excuse for the calming walk around the tower at night.

You felt a darkness around you, your impasse pulled at you. Your hollow self was wondering if your the thing you had going was a life worth living. Sure, you had people you loved here, but what happens when you become a danger to them?

You sensed him in the dark as your body seemed always aware of where he was. “Couldn't sleep?” You asked the darkness, talking only to the second carton in your hand.

The night didn't reply to you, you assumed he wouldn't. “You don't have to ignore me you know?” You prompted again.

He was receding whence he came.

“Wait!” You called on impulse, your clammy hands, your shaking knees- you didn't really want to be alone. You told yourself to keep away from him, but your willpower regarding him was flimsy at most, “-T-thank you, for saving me from the fire.”

“We’re even,” he stated in a low voice coming into the edge of the light, he was dressed in black sweatpants and a same shade singlet revealing bandages all the way up his flesh arm and some on his neck.

Before you realised you were taking steps forward with intention of touching him but you dropped your hand quickly. “Even?” You breathed.

“For the arm,” he prompted.

“I must have been a mess- I don't remember much,” only his promise to keep to safe, and the protective look in his eye that sent you butterflies.

“The fire hadn't gotten to you yet,” he said quietly.

You wondered about this, the flame patterns seemed to emanate from you in the chair. There was silence as you thought.

His mouth stayed in constant frown, he had to know, breaking your contemplative silence, “was it me in your nightmares again?”

“You never were in them-” you stated to push away from the subject, matter of factly, “there are a lot scarier things in existence than you Sergeant.” Namely you, the slayer of grieving mothers.

“Liar-” the grey eyed soldier stormed closer threateningly. “You screamed my name.”  
You took a swig of milk pretending to be unaffected by his closeness. “I watched you die the other night- split into pieces and I couldn't lift a finger to save you.” You caught his gaze.

James studied you over, confused, the darkness seeping from his expression.

You swiftly grabbed a glass and poured a cup for the soldier, “suppose your dreams have yet improve too?” You slid the glass towards the man.

James reached for the glass and inspected it as if expecting poison, deciding to not elaborate on his sleeping schedule. “I had a friend who suggested milk after nightmares.” He spoke as if he just now remembered.

“Baker?” You assumed.

“Gabe was his name, said his mother prescribed it,” he was blunt at the mention of Baker.

“Ah, Gabe Jones, from the ninety second infantry- ‘all black, all proud’” you spoke vaguely- you admired that about Gabe, you wondered if he was still alive.

The sergeant furrowed his brow, you were an enigma. “Are you going to back to bed?” He filled the quiet of night finding it hard to leave you, though he knew he should.

You grimaced. There was no way you were going back, you were a sleep away from learning more about the creature lurking within you. “Actually, considering I'm already here, I thought I might watch something.” Your eyes flickered to the grey, soft-leather couches in the middle of the room along with the projector. “Jarvis- set the lights to dim, and could you please set up the projector to play a movie?”

“What would you like to watch Princess?” The AI enquired smoothly.

You thought for a moment, walking towards the circle of couches. “You know what I like,” you gave a short smile, you and Jarvis had spent a long time together getting acquainted during the long nights.

“Of course princess, I'll surprise you,”

You sat yourself on the world’s most cushy couch and the screen slowly made its way up from the floor. “Oh, good choice Jarvis,” you recognised the sunset and song within moments.

You could feel him behind you for a moment, as if in the darkness your skin heated with direction and proximity to him. You hadn't realised you were holding your breath until he slowly came to sit down next to you as stealthy as an assassin should be, answering a silent request you had made for him to stay with you. You heart gave a double beat know you were sharing a couch with him.

 

Bucky was so absorbed that he was taken off guard when you finally said something.

“Could you tell me about Paul Baker?” You asked in a tiny voice as it had been gnawing at you for some time. On some small chance that this person could be your relation- you wanted to know about them, and whether or not they did monstrous things.

“Baker-?” He asked startled by the sudden mentioning of him for the second time this night.

“Steve seems to think she could be my family or something- but he admitted to not knowing Baker all that well,” you mumbled.

“-she?” He was confused.

“Huh?” You didn't realise what you said. “Did I speak wrong?” You shrugged.

“It's the second time you've done that.” He eyed you with giant suspicion.

“Done what-?” You ask absently, founding yourself watching the movie once more. You loved the hyenas in this movie.

Bucky deliberated for a long time, “-Baker was arrogant.” He said simply.

That got your attention, you piqued him a brow. It was only this afternoon Steve claimed you to be the same thing.

He elaborated further, “He was reckless, pig headed and would look down on all the human race as if he wasn't one of us but something more.” He spoke as if he had a deep hatred.

“Sounds like a real arse.” You tried to laugh, only to be reminded that this could have been your great grand-something. Knowing they weren’t a great person made the relation more plausible in you mind.

“When he was angry he would call me ‘human’ and meant it as a slur.” The sides of his lips upturned.

“Steve had me under the impression that you spent a lot of time together.” Your brow furrowed.

“Not willingly,” his voice was warming, looking much more like the man whose photo still hung in the museum, “we shared a tent in the one hundred and seventh, I was his Sergeant and he was my private. He would have much preferred to sleep alone in the cold dirt, I think, but followed higher orders to a T.” He spoke fondly.

“You're saying he didn't listen to you?” You grimaced, this guy sounded like a complete loose canon.

“Most times he thought he knew best- and he probably did, he once told me it wasn't his first war, he'd fought in countless before,”

You looked at your couch companion incredulously. “How is that possible?”

“I'm not completely sure,” he spoke quietly.

“I don't know what you see in the person,” you said flatly, watching the king lion rush to the rescue.

Barnes nodded. “He was all those things- he was also brave, strong and kinder than anyone I've ever met, a real hero, -not that he'd ever show his good qualities often.” He snickered the last part.

“A hero?” You spoke in quiet awe.

His eyes glazed over knowing only memories, seems his lips were more willing to open up about Baker than himself. “I remember when we got captured by Hydra behind enemy lines, our convoy had been driving through a canyon.”

His voice turned harsh, “It was an ambush, a Hydra mine took out the first vehicle so we couldn't pass any further with it toppled in front, and the bullets came raining- there wasn't much more we could do so I called for my men to return fire.” He had never felt so useless, his men were being peeled off one by one, even with the green tarp covering them from view, then there was Paul.

“Baker didn't say a word to me before he dropped out the back of the jeep. It was at this point I'd only seen his worst traits- it's fair to say we weren't getting along, I hate people like that, who lord over others,” like those who picked on little Steve Rogers.

“And then that? Disobeying direct order? I had to follow the stubborn idiot. He crawled underneath the cars toward the first in line and was scornful for me following him.” It almost seemed humorous in a kind of way, in the heat of gunfire himself and his private would squabble like children.

You were forgetting the movie in the background as James Buchanan Barnes was a wonderful storyteller. You could imagine what he would look like with a group of soldiers around him as he spun tales with charm, of mischief and women. You could hear the gunfire in his words, the screams and yells of soldiers- your heart beat loudly in your chest.

“I reprimanded him, yelling for his coward self to return fire, and that's when I remember him saying- ‘I didn't join this war to kill anyone’. I didn't understand it then, in fact with all my men dying around me, it made me furious that he wouldn't return fury. Baker ran the last leg to the first jeep that was on its side, and I was yelling that they were all already gone, the idiot was trying to be a hero- but instead of going in the burning jeep he grasped the side and heaved it back on its wheels-”

You felt goosebumps, you could almost smell the burning bodies and the gunpowder, Baker not only looked like you, but shared your strength. Your eyes sparkled, he was your family. You always guessed you had one- was the strength a trait of your heritage? How many more were out there hiding?

“I was the only one who saw it happen, he then started pulling people out, two men survived and weren't in good condition, he took a bullet in the shoulder for it, but he then managed to get the car off the road.” His words were laced with pride but then they fell.

“-But it was too late, when tanks rolled our way, we had only to surrender, our numbers were halved and my fireteam was then nothing but Baker.”

“I'm sorry,” you spoke quietly.

Barnes then nodded solemnly. “-He saved my life, when we surrendered, I was brought to the front along with the survivors of the first car. The survivors would only slow them down and I, for helping Baker who who hid in the crowd, was to be made an example of.” He swallowed, he didn't want to admit as a soldier, he felt fear in the face of death, but everyone did.

“The two beside me were executed quickly and I thought ‘this is it’. But Baker, somehow got a gun, I couldn't see, I only knew there was one less Hydra soldier and that he was threatening the captain of the operation.” He smiled at the tenacious idiot in his mind, “it was nothing but a bluff, Paul Baker, for everything he was worth couldn't aim a gun for his life.”

That made him very different from you- your shot was uncanny, it was surprising you didn't come from a line of marksmen.

“They let me go though, all they wanted us for was experiments which, when it came down to it, Paul volunteered for, to save from us going through it. It didn't stop them from taking me as well, him and I ended up sharing a steel bench side by side- if things hadn't ended up the way they did, maybe you'd be looking at one other winter soldier,” he said bitterly. “Instead- as fate would have it, I convinced him to join the Howling Commandos.” And for it, Paul Baker went missing in action, the same battle Steve did.

“From what you've told me, I wouldn't mind him to be my grandfather,” you smiled. “Did you two become friends after the Hydra camp?”

James looked away. “He and I had a -complicated friendship,”

You think you knew what that felt like.

“The beginning there was distrust as much as dislike- in fact, the week walk it took to get back over the Italian border Baker left the bullet in his shoulder to fester because he didn't trust anyone but Peggy Carter to remove it, he didn't even tell me Hydra had left it in him.”

“It didn't heal by itself?” You found yourself interrupting, your body would spit bullets out over time.

James frowned, “there was a revolting smell as it was being removed,” it was surprising he didn't lose his whole arm, “he was on light duties for a month, in a sling for longer, and only got Carter’s okay the day before shipping out with the commandos,” didn't stop Paul from trying the obstacle courses one handed though, the cocky idiot beat everyone at it too. The stubborn goat went through excruciating pain over trusting his Sergeant to take care of him.

Then what was wrong with you, why did you heal like this? How was Paul different? “Why Carter?”

A smirk came across his face, “the rumour was that the two were together, he was often in her tent, I now know that to be false,” because of Steve, but he didn't know that at the time- he wouldn't admit to being jealous, but he had been and at the time didn't know what for. “Carter got him into the army without telling anyone of his strength, most would turn him down because he was so small in comparison to the other soldiers.”

“But he trusted you too, right?” You prompted needing to know more about your supposed ancestor.

“In time yes, he was a very solitary person, his only requirement for joining the Howling Commandos, was that he could have a tent of his own, and that the others didn't know what he could do, he spent most of his time alone or by me as he knew me the most. He had such a sharp tongue, and knew exactly how to rub people the wrong way,” he mused, Jim Morita had a certain love, hate relationship with that sharp tongue, “he never wanted anyone close to him but somehow made an exception for me.” His voice became quiet.

“You speak so fondly-” you edged out.

James looked alarmed for a moment as if you had stumbled on his biggest secret.

“The way you look at me.. you want me to be someone else- I understand.” Your voice was small, and you pretended that the fact didn't have its sting.

Bucky averted his eyes, training them on the screen. “When someone saves your life you feel indebted, Paul was different, more than that- and it just sort of happened, we challenged each other and at some point our words seem to have other meanings,” he said cryptically, the last time Paul had called him ‘human’ it sounded like admiration disdain, it still rung in his ears, shortly after -he fell.

“Suppose avoiding me is easier for you considering I wear his face.”

“No- it's not like that, you and Paul are nothing alike.” He hurried, “I just- can't always control myself and you've become my favourite target,” he looked down at the metal arm you had created for him. It could be because you resemble him or something more- perhaps his darkest parts still sees you as an enemy.

"You don't have to avoid me-" you said meekly as you knew you shouldn't suggest so, "I think I might be indestructible-" you shrugged. At least you hadn't yet been proven not to be indestructible.

Jame thought over something in his head.

It was a slight slap in the face that you weren't even comparable to a war hero, or someone he once loved. “I'm nothing like him?” You tried not to sound offended, speaking before he could reject you.

“Paul never read, he seemed to think he already knew everything there was to know,” meanwhile you lived in a fort made of books, “he could have never built this-” he referred to his arm, even the computers Howard Stark made bothered Paul’s incomprehension, “I saw you playing with Steve yesterday in the training room- Baker was a skilled fighter, he took training seriously, he wouldn't often smile like you do.” Bucky found himself looking at you intently, looking for differences in you, you had a couple of scars Baker hadn't, you also didn't support the army cut that was forced on Paul.

Your heart had a small freak out- by playing with Steve, did he mean he heard what was in Natasha’s book. Your ears were turning slightly pink in the way he was looking at you. Those dark grey eyes dissecting you, you looked to where his dark hair fell around his neck.

“Perhaps there are a few similarities though, short tempers for one,” he mused.

You narrowed your eyes slightly.

“That bag you keep close to you, Baker had the same, he said he kept two family heirlooms inside.” At least that what he said, he was also a lot better at keeping secrets than you though, neither of you were particularly good liars. “I scolded him for it on the first day, imagine taking such things to war? I didn't understand it.”

“Family,” your breath hitched. He was the owner of the two objects before you? And he was good on some level, did that mean you were protecting them for the greater good? “Did he ever talk about his family?”

“He wasn't the most open person, but he did once say he had two brothers,” James liked the way you smiled at that.

You could be one of theirs. “-thank you for telling me about her,” you beamed, there was some small hope for you, perhaps your blood wasn't complete garbage, maybe you could sleep now knowing there was some good in here with you.

You turned your attention back to the screen. It had also became clear to you, no matter how your body felt as he sat a ruler's length away from you, all he wanted from you was friendship, there was a dull ache in your chest. But you looked like his 'likely to be dead' love, every time he looked at you, he saw Baker.

Bucky watched you a while longer as you settled back into the couch, his expression unreadable.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did some learning about Bucky and Baker this chapter~  
> Also, if you're looking for those cringy lines Steve was reading- http://www.tickld.com/x/20-worst-romance-novel-quotes-eve  
> You're welcome  
> Thank you all for the 213 kudos~  
> And for your support and your beautiful little comments  
> Is this the calm before shit hits the actual fan?  
> Who knows?


	18. Playing with big sticks

There was a long while before either of them spoke.

“This is what you woke me up to show me-” the blond’s voice was hushed.

“What are we supposed to do?!” The other blond was suppressing a bout of anger.

The other in broad shoulders gave a small shrug. “She looks happy-”

“That's all you've got to say Steve?!” He was having trouble with his volume. “This can end well, you know it!”

“Clint, she isn't your little girl.” It wasn't often the Captain was so blunt. “The machine Stark worked on must have worked, she hasn't slept like that in-” he didn't know, he hadn't been around. That would be the last he meddled between the two of you.

The Hawk’s heart sunk, he looked over your face. You weren't his to look after, how much did you need him anyway?

You stirred at some movement. Your eyes creaked open, that’s weird- you thought you heard people talking, or was it a distant dream? You weren't to know. You don't remember dreaming anything- that's a pleasant feeling.

Actually, everything was quite pleasant, you were warm, comfortable, there was a masculine scent that you liked all around you. You were held safe and close. You were only now realising your situation, an arm snaked around your middle, a chest pressed up against your back. You had fallen asleep with Sergeant James on the couch.

Where his hand rested by your belly, was where your darkness usually lived, the part of you that was hollow seemed filled by this jittery, fluttering feeling. You were now very aware of the heat against your back, the sounds he made in his sleep, his breathing, his heart drumming against your back.

You swallowed-no one needed to know this had happened, he didn't have to especially, you weren't about to become his surrogate Baker, your heart already had enough bizarre baggage concerning him in the first place.

Part of you wanted to let this happen, to pretend to go back to sleep and see how he would react to you being in his arms, the other half knew going on with this would do him more harm than good, not to mention, you would be the one most cut up. Living a role meant for someone else, it didn't feel like living.

You carefully peeled the arm from your waist, intending a quick escape. The bandage covered arm had other intentions, gripping your hips closer while a metallic arm swirled around your torso.

A low growl rumbled through the chest pressed against your back.

“You're awake,” you stated simply.

“Your mother seems worried about leaving you with me,” the husky voice spoke low to the shell of your ear.

You froze, your ear tingling. You could feel his lips hovering where they were. So you had heard Clint before. “I'm not worried,” your voice was a betrayal of the sentiment. You were worried what Barton had to say about this to your face, yesterday he was warning you about Stark, how did he feel about this situation?

There was a low, dangerous chuckle, “maybe you should be.” Winter sounded like he was about to dine on you.

You gave a sigh, he was just trying to scare you into distancing yourself again. You shifted, pulling your metal creation from your torso, pushing yourself up until you could face him. You almost wished you hadn't, his face was a nose length from yours, his long hair was tossed from sleep, his eyes were impossibly dark, his brow low. Your heart was a sack of rabid bees. “You seem to forget your situation,” you easily moved the hand on your hips trying to sound your most confident, “You really think yourself capable of holding down a god?”

Winter squinted at you for a moment. “A god?”

A god? You cringed at yourself, why a god? You furrowed at yourself, “why are all the others so much better at banter than me?” Was it something taught? You shrugged it off as well as him. Finally getting far enough away from that look he was giving you, you stretched and played off as if this sort of thing happens all the time, but you couldn't count on your fingers any times you'd woken up to a man- one especially that had such a hold on you as he did. You stood quickly, intending to leave just as fast.

“-thank you,” came Bucky’s low voice.

You turned to see him now sitting on the couch as you were now steps away. You looked at him questioningly.

“I haven't slept like that for a long time,” he confessed, looking away to keep himself from looking as vulnerable as the confession made him feel.

You swallowed also unable to look at him- “I- neither-” you confessed, feeling self conscious- “I'm going to get some breakfast, I'll- see you, around-” you skidded away.

 

You sat awkwardly with your bowl of count chocula. A thick protein shake in one hand, a cup of chalky pills in the next. You were in the ‘informal’ dining room which was next to the ‘formal’ dining hall, on the same floor as the kitchen and residential suites. The kitchen wasn't a fridge that you dared go in as the kitchen staff would more than have something to say about it.

These two had seen you on the couch asleep next to Sergeant James right? You kept your eyes low.

Clint had a bit of a threatening aura around him, or were you imagining it?

“You should come to the park with us-” Steve started, he looked to be having the best kind of day, the was a blinding smile plastered to his face, contrasting Clint who seemed to have brought his own raincloud with him his morning. “Bucky and I are going for a jog,”

At the mention of Bucky, Clint’s eyes seem to narrow at nothing in particular.

“N-no, I'm good, I thought I'd train with Natasha today,” it was Steve himself who suggested to take Nat up on her training, you started eating quicker than you thought was possible, shovelling cereal in the hatch. You didn't think you could look at James for a while, being near him made you feel wiggly and confused. You kept remembering how he felt against your back, but also how he look describing his Baker.

“I think you'll be good for Bucky,” Steve chirped looking at Clint squarely, he wasn't going to meddle with you any further concerning Bucky.

You were eating too quickly. You inhaled when you shouldn't have and it sent you choking. You couldn't speak you were too busy coughing.

“If he ever hurts you _____, I will not be bias.” Barton stated coldly glare towards Steve.

Your eyes went wide. “Fri-ends-” you wheezed. Taking in large gulps of thick shake. “Nothing more.”

Barton visibly relaxed. “Yes, of course, that's what I meant- if he ever bothers you in a friend sort of way, I'm always here,” he chuckled weirdly.

You were now realising what it must have looked like.

Steve helpfully patted you on the back to save you from dying to the chocolate vampire. Perhaps that could even be better for him, his two closest people also friends? He was imagining all the things that could be done with three people.

Modified and creeped out by the both of them you opted to take the shake and pills to go, “-I think I'll go find Romanoff now- you guys- have fun,” you escaped quickly after that. Natasha might be the only normal person in the tower.

 

“Nat- why do I have a stick?” You frowned, unknowingly to you, you were wearing matching black training gear. You just wore it because it was her gift, it was tighter than you'd prefer but it stretched and wasn't restricting- ‘like fighting naked’ she sold it to you.

Natasha was defensive, “It isn't just a stick, the Japanese call it a bo, the Europeans call it a quarterstaff, it's-”

“A stick.” You stated with all the blunt force a wooden pole the height of you, could wield.

“The most simple weapon I could think of to start you off with them,” she challenged.

Your nose wrinkled, she had you there, she tried to show you her batons, but you couldn't quite figure them out.

“When it comes to quarterstaff, you want your opponent on the outer and yourself on the inner so that they're open to attack while you can also defend.” She explains briefly, taking a side on stance, though you knew for experience, Nat rathered to explain by doing.

You nodded, you think you understood what she meant, most of the battle would be fighting to get on the inner of the opponent’s stance, as if you both stood side on, the person with their stick on the outter could only attack the other’s back and risked also getting jabbed in vital areas.

Natasha faced you with her own special stick before she started rounding on you. For a moment you were thinking about the mother last night you slaughtered, you shook your head trying to focus on the now. She lunged forward pushing your extended stick to the side, leaving you open to her jab, but your body moved miraculously, you spun your stick around your back and tapped her jab away easily from the other side.

Nat piqued a brow at you. She hadn't taught you anything like that yet, she attempted a strike from above and you defended just as easily holding the bo horizontally in two hands like a bar.

You let go of your bar with your left hand, letting her swing through on the outer, giving you the opportunity at attack, you jabbed her lightly on the stomach. “Boop!” you booped her.

She looked at you wide eyed, “how did you do that so fast?”

You frowned and cocked your head, “you're going easy right?” You chuckle.

“Or course-” she smiled slightly queasy.

 

You'd never seen Natasha’s hair go so awry. For every attack you somehow knew the immediate counter, when she was too focused on attacks you went for the legs, you twirled circles around her until she was actually panting.

“Don't!” She started, but you already had.

“Boop,” you chuckled as you got behind and aimed her butt for a booping.

There was a one man applause.

“Ah Steve, you're just in time, our princess here is getting a little full of herself,” she had a proud beam that contradicted her words.

“Sticks,” you laughed, “who knew, right?”

“You're lucky the quarterstaff isn't my forte,” Natasha grumbled in malcontent. She was more guns, things that explode, using her fists and sometimes her batons- quarterstaffs were glorified sticks anyway. She liked being your teacher, but apparently she couldn't teach you on this.

“I know shortstaff,” Bucky alerted everyone but Steve to his presence.

“Shortstaff,” you scoffed, suddenly realising what you had laughed at you turned your head. You somehow didn't think you'd see the good sergeant so shortly after- waking up next to him. You wanted to hide somewhere.

Bucky Barnes hadn't stopped watching you since he got in the room, “I wouldn't worry about that doll, it's longer than you might think,” he spoke with all the smooth grace the forties taught him.

Your jaw went slack- he was talking about the stick, wasn't he? When you looked back to him he was looking somewhere your eyes weren't, you felt a little more exposed 'fighting naked' than you had before. 

Natasha blinked, was she missing out on something?

Steve shifted awkwardly, his heart felt a little wronged for some reason. “There's more practice weapons in the storage cupboard over there,” his words came out robotically. “We could go for a two on two,”

You went to the storage closet in curiousity, all this time and you've never stuck your head in there. There was a false American shield, boxes of wooden throwing knives, dummy arrows that you've already had a foul run in with and towards the back was a pool cue rack of sticks.

One in particular stood out to you, it was covered in a white enamel, it was about the height of your chest so you could swing it faster, it ended in a sharpened point though, you would have to keep your booping to the other end.

“Why that one?” He asked close behind, as you were realising just how narrow this closet was.

You held it, it was a little heavier, it felt right. “I like the weight of it.”

Bucky towered over you, suddenly leaning over you so you could feel the heat radiating from him.

You froze still.

He reached beyond and pulled back a staff that was about half his height covered in a dark stain. A smirk played on his lips as he suddenly disappeared.

You were left in the closet with a flush on your cheeks, why was he acting like this suddenly? Or was he always like this and you hadn't been noticing? Was it all in your mind? He was just getting something from the rack behind you. It wasn't good for your heart whatever it was.

It felt cooler out of the storage closet. You gave your new stick an experimental swing, this was a good choice.

“That's cheating isn't it?” Steve chuckled looking at your staff, his hands on his hips. His blue sweats were already living up to their name as a sheen was on his skin, he and Nat were already warming up forgoing the weapons.

You frowned and looked to the point at the end- “it's only little pointy,” you defended your new friend.

“I'm not worried,” James said nonchalantly not meaning anymore than that.

Felt a little insulted. “Maybe you should be,” you pointed your sharp end at him, and then you were reminded of what he said to you laying in the couch. You were probably the only one. You felt yourself going a little red so you turned away with the pretence of practising more with your stick.

You twirled in one hand, when the momentum was high, you let it curl around your wrist of its own accord and then down your arm, ducking your head it sun on your back catching to the next arm, and into your other hand, as if it was a mere basketball, though you don't ever remember being able to manipulate a ball so easily.

“You've taught her well Nat,” Steve spoke admiring that you finally picked up a weapon you seemed to actually like.

“Yeah,” for once her voice seeming small.

“How long have you been working on quarterstaff with her?”

“Few hours,” Romanoff’s voice became higher in pitch and unbecoming of herself.  
Steve’s brow rose.

When you felt you face cool off you stopped rotation by hitting the ground using the dull end. You let out a serene breath, “Steve there’s a shield in there if you think you need it,” you spoke with a smirk taking your place near him.

“Oh, I won't need it,” he didn't sound as sure of himself as he usually did.

Romanoff stood next to you and Bucky came to stand next to Steve with his shortstaff in hand. “Are you ninty year old men ready?” Natasha brought her best smirk.

“Always.” Steve, closed the distance between himself and Natasha, taking you off guard as you somehow thought he'd end up being your opponent. Steve was all about the arms and Natasha was all about the legs.

You found yourself staring down the face of Bucky Barnes, he shrugged at you before taking a ready stance with his short stick. You didn't know stances, you were being thrown into this sort of thing. You closed the distance between the two of you playing off how unwillingly you were doing this. You broke the ice with a head on attack from above. He intercepted horizontally with more force than you were expecting and pushed you back, a challenging look coming across him.

“You were expecting Steve,” he observed. Knocking your stick back before having you dodge his swipe.

“N-no,” you stuttered, another of his swings was made for your middle, you jumped its height and rolled over it. He was slowly backing you to where Steve and Nat were brawling.

He pushed you further as your sticks both met horizontally, he was closer to you when he spoke next, “I thought I didn't scare you,” his eyes darkened, his brow sitting low, a shadow casting his face.

“You don't.” You verified. You swallowed, there were things that did scare you about him but it certainly wasn't his ability to hurt you. You feared close proximity to him, you were scared of this feeling he gave you- scared all he saw was someone else when looking at you. This wasn't happening, you weren't- falling for him. No. You darted backwards.

You then noticed that Steve had Nat in a pin. “Team not-dinosaurs!” Became your war cry as you used your stick as leverage, lifting your entire body into a fly kick to remove Rogers from her.

“-Cheating!” Steve accused as he was upstanding almost as fast as he had been reduced to the ground.

“Thought this was two on two,” you teased helping Nat to her feet.

“Tag team?” Romanoff suggested to you.

With a nod the two of you were on Steve, you whacked probably too lightly, at his legs while Natasha preoccupied him with a flurry of blows, Steve defended best he could but there was two of you.

“Pass,” Nat called and you tossed over your stick, she used it as leverage to wrap her legs around his neck like a spider, the stick then landed to the floor. You caught his arms and secured them behind his back, he was reduced to one knee and heavy panting.

“Pickles?” You baited with a smile.

A stick intercepted around your middle, and pulled you against the other in Steve’s team, “a little underhanded two against one don't you think?” you could feel the growl through his chest creating butterflies in yours.

You lost grip on Steve and he was free to pull Romanoff from him. “Speak for yourself, attacking from behind.” The white stick was just in front of you, you reached with your foot, rolling it toward you and then onto your foot to kick up like a hacky sack. You caught it out of the air and pressed the butt of it down into James’ foot. You freed yourself as he recoiled, shoving him backwards.

He groaned but not out of pain. His eyes were dark watching the way you moved, turning on the defence as a ferocity came over your attacks. The clanking of wood became louder, you were getting lost, your body was heating.

“I asked you before why you chose that weapon-” he was struggling to keep up.  
You were only vaguely aware he was talking at you in the heat of battle. You ducked and dived, jabbed, swiped and twirled, like a dance you somehow knew. You met horizontal sticks once more, making his face a nose away from yours.

“-Because Paul had the same white spear.”

All you could tell from this sentence was that he was comparing you to Baker again. You weren't her. Your blood ran blazingly hot. Why was it always Baker? Why weren't you good enough? You would spend the rest of your existence in her shadow, when she is already dead. You met Barnes with more force, until his staff gave way to the sound of a twig snapping.

“Woah, calm down princess, we’re just sparring,” came Steve's voice, he came in from the side to grapple, his hand coming to rest over yours on your staff.

Your deadly gaze didn't shift from James who was shrinking back, you gripped Steve's hand and pulled him with enough force you send him flying over your shoulder.

“______,” Natasha came to implore, the situation going awry. “We won, you can stop fighting,” her words calming.

You shifted low, pivoting on your staff tripping her to the ground.

“I’ve never needed a weapon anyway,” Winter looked excited by the sudden turn, edging for something he could sink his teeth into. You had range advantage though, you swiped at him forcing him with his back to the wall.

Your eyes trained, you knew where his heart lay, you knew every artery to cut.

You raised your spear -and the room was gone. It was snowing. The soldier facing you looked up with fear in his eyes. The heels of his feet already finding the cliff’s edge. You took menacing steps forward, rage fuelling you, this man did something, robbed you of something. Your eyes flickered to the green of his army uniform. You knew where his heart lay. You aimed your spear- but you never hit, the man that was once there was gone. He inclined falling over the pain you'd endure him. He had jumped over the edge.

You looked to the white spear in your hand, it had markings, ones you shouldn't know how to read. This was your weapon, the same you stood in that field with. You hated it, you hated it all. You dropped the spear to the abyss below. Falling to your knees on the blue mats, the very real white metal spear dropped beside you.

James in front of you didn't look afraid, he looked concerned.

“_______, what's wrong?” Natasha was first by your side.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Steve fluttered over you.

“It's just a headache,” you passed off, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. What the fuck was wrong with you? “I'm sorry I Hulked out again-” you tried to smile, “I think I'm going to go back to my room,” your voice wavered.

“Is there anything I can do?” Natasha sounded suddenly desperate, showing more emotion than was natural for her.

You eyed the white spear. ‘ _When you receive this spear it will be at your side until the day you fall. It will always seek you out, that's what it means to be_ …’ an older woman’s voice rung out. To be- what? You gripped at the left side of your head feeling as if you'd been whacked with a rubber band. “Take that spear and melt it down,” you said finally. “I never what to see it again.” And you left, to hide and to cry.

 

“Why are you here?” You asked the darkness.

“You didn't come down for dinner,” the man with the constant frown justified.

You hadn't realised how dark it had gotten, you had entered your room and merely sat on your bed. You felt nothing, you had cried but inside was nothing. You hadn't pulled the blankets up, you didn't feel the hot or the cold or the comfort. “I'm not hungry,” you said simply, because you couldn't even feel that.

“I'm going to leave this here then,” Bucky said simply, placing a tray of what smelt like your favourite food at the end of your bed- “Steve asked the cooks to make this, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

He wasn't wrong. You would a brat to refuse, you looked up expecting to see him leave but he still stood there. You didn't want him to leave. “Jarvis?” You asked in a meek voice.

“Yes Princess?” The computer enquired.

“Could please play a movie for us?” You drew your tray closer and moved for your couch dodging stalagmites of books. Friendship was enough- you wouldn't lose control like you did before, you didn't have the right to covet a love life of a fallen war hero.

James’ expression softened noting how you'd said ‘us’. “May I sit?”

“Of course,” you said softly and he took up space beside you as you munched on your delicious dinner. This was the sequel to the movie you watched the previous night. “Nice choice, Jarvis,” you commended the computer. It was only one of the best sequels of all time.

“What happened in the training room?” Barnes probed gently.

Your cheeks were puffed out when you looked at him next.

He tried to hide a smile behind the back of his hand.

You swallowed thickly. “Sorry, I've been told I have no table manners,” you went for a napkin, in the forties manners were ranked quiet highly weren't they? You felt a bit of an oaf in comparison.

“Baker used to eat much like you do-”

“Paul Baker sounds like a wonderful person,” you found yourself interrupting, “and I can tell you miss her very much, but I'm not her anymore.”

The world kind of stuttered for Bucky sucked in a breath, “anymore?”

“What’s anymore?” You frowned. He looked at you rather stunned and you shrugged it off, and despite trying to eat any differently, you were your usual messy self.

"Me," he said suddenly, "you've been calling me Sergeant all this time, I haven't been called that since I fell from that train- I'm not your Sergeant anymore."

You contimplated this, you didn't know he felt that way, "I guess you're right Bucky," his name felt foreign. "I didn't realise what I was saying," you massaged your temples. You went on with his previous question, “I don't know what happened in the training room- one moment I was just sparring with you, next I was killing a soldier in some war I don't remember.. did I scare you?” You asked your bowl of food.

“No.” He was honest.

He must have something wrong with him, you looked at him incredulously. It was like facing down a barbarian and her stick, with the brain and reasoning skills of a rabid shark and the strength of a blue whale.

“For the same reason you refuse to be afraid of me- when it comes down to it, I just don't think you have it in you to kill me and I could never do the same to you.” At least he had some foolish hope that was true on both accounts.

“Thank you Ssss- Buck,” your appreciation was spoken softly.

He quietly like the way that sounded, “Steve feared that since you locked yourself in here that you had decided to leave again,” Bucky had a faltering smile that said he expected as much too.

“How can I leave?” You were back to talking with your mouth full. “Now that I remember the things I've done- if I was an avenger I'd be putting me in chains before…”

“Before?”

“I remember who I really am,” you whispered, your stomach dropping, the desecration and destruction you could perform now trained under Natasha Romanoff and fed by Doctor Bruce Banner. You placed your empty tray on the coffee table

“If that ever happens, we’ll share a cell,” Bucky said lightly watching you settle into the couch. “I'm glad you're staying,”

You felt warm in hearing him say that, perhaps in stay the avengers can teach you to be better- or was that your excuse to shift a little closer the James on the couch?

The movie was partway through when you felt a weight on your shoulder, James was slumped to one side, breathing in a relaxed state. You weren't going to let it happen again, as indulgent as it would be to lay next to him- you weren't her anymore. You laid him out on the couch, placed your tray outside of your door and crawled into bed to watch the last of the movie, which you didn't quite see the end of.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We building some fluff but also some character  
> Warning for some Tony Stark served fan service next chapter and then we take on the main story head on.  
> Does that mean Loki finally shows his ass (like he did in crimson peak) who knows?!?  
> Thank you all for the the 219 kudos <3 that's a freaking huge amount of people!!  
> I also super appreciate your happy comments!


	19. What could go wrong?

You laid out on the bench lifting some weight that even had the Stark-metal bar bow.

You had a dream about watching blood run like red ink, dying snow crimson. It was as if you had sat there and watched if for the sheer pleasure in another life.

Time passed and the dreams were coming thick and fast, in sleep and waking life. You felt like you were on the paramount of something worse, so you escaped to the lowest room in Stark tower. Someone had not only cleaned out the weights room but restored the weights in it- you had to know how Stark was doing it.

“Everyone's been looking for you, you know?” He was clad in blue, with arms folded, he leaned against the grey brick wall that supported a few stray scorch marks.

“Come to spot me?” You jest, your breathing was irregular, sweat patterned your grey tank in a v shape.

“I don't think I'd be much help,” Rogers confessed but still took a place by your head. “Have you been down here all day?”

You were getting a really strange angle on Cap from down here while you pumped iron- or whatever metal it was. Right up his nose. “Needed to think,” you justified, finally lifting the bar back to the holder your arms were aching but they still looked like weak noodles.

Steve helped you placed the bar back for what it was worth. “And -what did you come up with?” He asked as you were now sitting up, legs dangling over the side.

“-these memories, they're going to come back to me no matter what I do.” It was an inescapable fact.

Steve perched next to you. “What are we going to do about it?” He curled a stray hair around your ear.

You smiled, he was already volunteering his help- of course he was, but this wasn't something he could help. “I'm not going to hide from it,” that's what you had been doing all your life, you didn't want them to remember you as someone who hid away in the end, “You and the other Avengers make me want to be something better than I am, if I stay by you, maybe won't become a-something I don't want to be.” Your eyes watered slightly.

“Does this mean you'll join us on missions?” He asked hopefully.

You hadn't thought about it- you wanted to go where they were, and if they went on missions- “If you think you can handle me losing control at times- I would like to go on missions, make memories here, maybe that way I can hold on longer?”

“______, you speak as if you dying,” your blond friend tried to joke but his voice wavered.

“It feels like I am Cap,” you rubbed at your eyes. “As the person I am now, my days are numbered.”

Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, “are writers always this dramatic?” He attempted to laugh but it came out hoarse. You were his princess and his punching bag, he was supposed to be able to protect you from everything, it didn't seem fair that this was the one thing he couldn't shield you from.

You hiccuped in response. “-you have to promise me something Steve.”

He didn't like where this was going, “-depends what it is.”

“If I- become something I'm not, find a way to wipe me, factory reset. Or if that fails- find a way to-” you swallowed.

“It's not going to come to that,” he stated definitively, his voice raising. He didn’t want to think about it. He would never let it come to that.

“I just, don't want to hurt anyone,” you revised quietly, it was slowly becoming your mantra. You knew it wasn't fair to ask him to do it, it was fair when Bucky asked the same of you but he was getting better now as you- weren't. He was ascending to his past self while you were descending to yours.

“I know.” He patted you hair feeling somber.

“-I'm not interrupting, am I?” Quiet as always, there was a long silence between you and Steve that remained unbroken until the brunet spoke. He looked at you the way a wolf might look at a rabbit as Steve's arms was still held around you.

“No, no,” you dismissed, any tears had dried a while ago, yourself and Steve had only been sharing a contemplative quiet. You felt a blush come over you, embarrassed by the state of you- but it shouldn't matter, you weren't letting yourself fall for him.

“We were just about to go for a run, you coming Bucky?” Steve stood offering you an unnecessary hand to help you up.

Winter looked on darkly and gave a sharp nod for affirmation.

You didn't know when you agreed on a run, but you could take a leisurely stroll in the Stark park.

 

“Slow down!” You called. You'd tried to keep Steve's pace as best you could but speed was never in your favour.

“Can't keep up princess?” Came a blue eyed smirk.

He must be forgetting who spent the last day lifting weights. You smelt, you felt gross, and there was Bucky Barnes, right next to you- not that it mattered, perhaps a walk was more your style at this point. “I'll catch you on the next lap,” you slowed.

You watched Bucky’s hardened, determined expression as he and Steve left you in their dust, he didn't even flicker a look your way. It's like you were never there. Somehow you felt slightly hollow now walking alone.

“What's up with those two?” Wilson started slightly stunned, he jogged in beside you on his own late afternoon run. Both seemed to have something to prove but neither of you could tell what it was.

You perked up with Sam’s sudden entrance, squinting at the two in the distance. “Bucky is acting strangely,” you agreed, you didn't know what had him so riled up, “Steve would race anything if it gave him half the chance,” you smirked.

“Nah, Bucky’s always like that, with the glaring,” Sam mirrored ‘the glaring’, “and the no talking- don't know why Steve spends so much time with him.”

You looked at him with brows raised, Bucky wasn't so quiet around you- he seemed to fade in large groups though. “You're jealous!” You scoffed unbelieving.

Sam blinked in your direction. “Me? Why should I be? -it's not like Steve blew me off the other week when I asked him to go to the bar, just to hang out with Bucky-”

“But it is though!” You exclaimed, “You're jealous as fuck!” It was good he got some of his own medicine, all this time you took James on as a rival for taking away your Cap- he now suffered the same fate. Wow Steve was in high demand.

“Why are you here by the way? I thought I got you that date, remember- last week?” Apparently the dating game was much easier than he portrayed it, Steve refused him so you were taken to be falcon’s wing woman at a bar not far from here, a few words, a thumb in his direction and she had been sold.

Sam looked at the ground he was running on, looking for a way to sly out of it, before he gave a resigned sigh. “She was actually counting on you to be there-”

You blinked for a moment, you thought the woman with dark eyes, was just being friendly, it just wasn't Wilson’s week, “-I think I might be a bit oblivious to these things,” you frowned. “I'm sorry Sam, you can eat with us as conciliation,” you offered. You watched the sun heading towards the other side of the earth. You didn't often get to spend time with Sam, with the time you had, you wanted to spend all of it- with all of them.

“I wouldn't say no to seeing more of that Natasha Romanoff,” he skewed his brow at you.

“Someone big and green might have something to say about that,” you blurted accidentally.

“You're kidding right? I just can't catch a break!”

 

“Can you count us ______?” Steve had a playful twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, before sharing a look with a certain fox. “What does it matter- I can bench the both of you, can't we just go eat?” Sam was becoming a wallflower, it was clear he didn't much like this room, namely because he couldn't lift a single thing in here, something you promised to change.

“I'm going to beat him this time,” Winter swore looking dark, finding your eyes.

“You heard him,” Steve chuckled, he liked competing with someone on his spectrum.

You were lost in those dark grey eyes, you swallowed and averted your gaze to some place safer, “Fine,” you sat on the lifting bench next to Sam. “One,”

The each lifted a tonne with one hand as Steve counted your silver arm as cheating.

“Two,” and a second rep was done.

“I'm hungry,” Sam stated next to you.

“Three, same,” you included dully.

 

If it were possible, losing to Steve put James in an even worse mood. The elevator to the top floor was pretty awkward, you could feel Winter seething in waves.

The four of you stormed the entrance of the lounge with rumbles in your stomachs until everyone stopped in their tracks.

Your eyes narrowed around the room, it was on par with a miracle- at every orifice of the room stood an avenger or more. How was it possible that you all ended up in the same room at the same time? There was always a mission, or someone working late- never were the avengers in one room for anything short of a meeting.

You took your suspicions eyes to Tony who was up the top of the ramp to the back entrance of the lab. Was his new project something to do with mind control?

Stark had been working on his new suit- and was looking for a test subject, he exchanged a suspicious glance right back at you, you were always planning something.

Clint was trudging down the stairs above, he was often out on top of the tower watching like a hawk from its nest. He found that was something he liked to do after you returned from Stark’s mission pale as a ghost. Even if he could swear he'd seen something that night, he hadn't seen anything like it since.

Banner and Romanoff, now that was hard to place, there was whispers from the two of them, talking about something to do with a lullaby? They showed up out of the elevator behind you.

The seven of you all paused at various entrances of the common room with its polished concrete flooring and luscious grey couches. The seats were all arranged so that all the avengers may face each other around a shag carpet and coffee table- but they seldom used it. To you that felt a shame.

Well, if the circumstance was to present itself, “Tony~” you called as he was all the way across the vast room.

“Yes Princess?” His eyes narrowed as you were confirming some suspicion he had.

“Can we order in fried chicken?” You asked cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. sometimes you got to lower yourself into doing degrading things if you want to get what you want around here. They all named you princess, what more dignity did you have left? But eating together, with all your avengers, while you -were still you, nothing sounded better. You were open to lowball tactics.

“Why?” Stark’s eyes zeroed in further, his own counter plan forming.

“I've not- had chicken- not made by- your chef,” your voice became quieter and quieter.

Clint told tales of a chicken you could receive from a man in a white beard and raybans and said it was unparalleled, at least, Tony’s chefs were too fancy to know how it's done properly. “I doubt the soldiers have either,” you spoke quickly as if to pass blame.

Barton's heart fluttered, he didn't know what had gotten into you but you were suddenly too precious for this world.

Even Natasha wore that same look despite her usual stoic disposition, had a look that saw you as a poor innocent, not some creature that was just, mere minutes ago, lifting many tonnes of some unknown metal above your head.

You looked to Bucky who was frowning at you. How did he learn that disarming manner? They certainly didn't teach that at Hydra.

 

The soldier did in fact know this chicken, they were once treated to it on a special occasion way back in the nineteen thirties. The taste and smell was rather nostalgic.

“Hey Bucky, does this chicken leg look bigger to you?” Steve started suddenly.

“Yeah actually, how does that happen?” Bucky’s eating habits were certainly cleaner than your own, he still was only using his hands but you somehow got it everywhere.

You couldn't bring yourself to tell Bucky of how they added growing agents into the chicken via their food source. "I'm sure it's just- evolution or something,” you spoke like a chipmunk hiding nuts, smug expression on your face. Perhaps acting cute was a super power- it should only be used in desperate times.

Banner shared a look with you as you both knew that evolution certainly wasn't the case.

The grey suede couches and chairs had you all facing each other, Bucky, instead of sitting next to Steve took your other side, an action you weren't going to overthink, not at all. Nor were you going to think about his leg touching yours, in fact, you shifted closer to your other side.

Rogers was on your right and unbeknownst to him, was receiving the odd glare from Winter who must have still been pissed about losing in tonne reps.

And unbeknownst to Bucky, he was receiving the odd unfriendly glance from Sam, on the other side of Steve.

The room was full of various chatter, Banner pulled a joke he had seen on his internet travels that only Stark and yourself got and then he went on to explain it- not that it made it any funnier.

James was quiet beside you, most else probably forgot he was there.

Tony thought it would be fun to couple the chicken with beer, there was also scotch milling about.

You had a go at both and found them horribly bitter and pointless to something like you, you happily stuck with the chicken and coke. With the consumption of social lubricant the room got louder, you kind of wished you knew what they were feeling. You became a quiet bystander, taking in the atmosphere, you looked over each of their faces as if you might someday forget them.

You caught Banner’s eye again in the crowd and he gave you a sympathetic look, he avoided the drinks because he was much the same but, you know, a little greener.

"-Princess," Tony started. "I have a flask of something you could try," a strange grin appeared on his face, he would kill two birds with this one stone tonight, he was building this plan since you suggested chicken. "A friend gave it to me some years ago for helping out with," -catching his brother on a murderous rampage, "-something, he said it wasn't for mortal men," there was curiosity in his eyes.

Though this wasn't for curiosity, it was for confirmation this would either have you drunk and confirm something for him, or you'll have to have your stomach pumped and he'll have to think of something else. He stood from his recliner that was situated near Bucky's end of the couch and offered and ornate flask to you, leaning over the coffee table in the center.

You receive the little flask and looked at it, it had reminiscent markings carved into it. You squinted at it and then to him and then to Clint for some kind of permission, who sat on a chair that was by Sam's side of the couch.

He was eyeing Stark as suspiciously as you had, but gave you a slight nod, Stark could be an ass but he doubted he would intend to actually hurt you. Would he?

You pondered it, looking towards Sam who was smiling with a beer in hand and then to Nat who was laughing at something Bruce didn't realise was funny. You wanted to feel that- "Suppose a sip wouldn't hurt?" You hoped at least- the worst that could happen was a backlash of terrifying memories and maybe a violent rampage on your behalf, you imagined with all the avengers in one room that would look much like a football match, or a stack of pancakes.

You lifted it to your lips. It tasted like it was aged for a thousand years, in barrels built from the wreck of Gronhill's fleet and lord did it burn! It was just a mouthful, the very premise of the drink was scary. You coughed and spluttered for a moment but you felt fine.

“If you two feel up to it- it might be something to try,” Tony glinted further looking at the super soldiers.

“Sure- I'll give it a go,” Steve couldn't get drunk either, at least, that's what they tell him. He plucked the ornate flask from you and poured some into his drink, passing it on to James.

If Steve was having some- Bucky had to.

You looked around the room after a while. O-oh. Oh dear. It took five minutes to set in. It spins, like the room spins heaps. All the things you remember ever being dark and scary- seemed a lot more far away. That big blue guy- he was stupid you would, would, would, tell him is mother couldn't cook. -Couldn't control your strength? Hell yeah you could! Anyone who said otherwise you could throw in the bin! You never killed anyone- it wasn't you, it was never you. You vaguely realised why Stark drank so much. You felt- lighter.

Everything was a lot more funny, you thought back to the joke Banner had pulled before. 'Why do chemists call helium, curium, and barium 'the medical elements'? Because, if you can't 'helium' or 'curium', you 'barium'. You got it, like, you really got it.

Your sudden burst of laughed caught the two beside you off guard. You giggled into oblivion until you laughed at your own laugher and it became a silent laugh, you only had your mouth open and tears explode from your eyes.

What had Stark done? He expected some drunken shenanigans, not to this point- at least you weren't poisoned? He couldn't help stifle laughter along with your antics, and most else, who were also inebriated, joined in. So there would be no stomach pumping? Yet you shouldn't be this drunk, should you? It was a mere sip.

You must admit you felt pretty awesome. Did Barnes always look like that? You noticed again that he was there. Of course he did, he was not-so-sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, with the soft hair, the brows, the indented chin, the scruff, the- the face. "Buck, you look- so good," you revelled as if surprised at your own discovery. Did everyone else know this? The man was like awesome looking, stunning even. Why didn't he have a girlfriend or like twelve?

Bucky became wide eyed, at your sudden confession. How much of that stuff did you drink? He had taken a sip and spiced up a whiskey with a little. It was enough to feel a familiar buzz.

It was unbecoming of a dame to see her so drunkardly. What if someone were to take advantage of you? What if he were to? James found himself watching over you more diligently, focusing on training his brain from dark thoughts, but instead found himself hiding a smile behind the back of his hand. It was nice to finally see you laugh.

You turned to the other side. It was Cap! Cappy, Cappy, Cap. The Capnator. Those blue eyes, that heroic figure. He was the one to convince you to take the vitamins, he brought you here, he said he would protect everyone from you, oh my god, he had done just so much for you! He was the reason you were here, with these people, eating this chicken. He was the reason you were alive! Probably not, but he was! You suddenly felt like crying, you felt like melting into a puddle. "Sstteeeve," you wailed winding around his arm.

Cap looked at Stark with a crease on his forehead, letting you circle around him unaffected. "What on earth is this stuff?" He felt a bit off because of the drink.

Tony was as baffled at your reaction. "-i-it was just something Thor gave me as a thank you," he said defensively, before he noticed he fuming Barton. "Hey, I didn't know she was a lightweight!" He said defensively, well, lightweight in comparison.

You squinted, making a face of pure concentration still wound around Steve’s neck. "Thor-?" Hmm Thor. "Hmmmmmmm," something. He was- something. Bucky felt a cold expression come over him seeing as you now had your head on Steve's chest.

Steve let you, you were his idiot friend who was outrageously drunk, he saw no problem, if Bucky were to do that same he'd shrug it off just as easily.

You didn't even realise you were doing half the things your were, oh gee, Cap's chest was damn firm, you knocked on your head with your knuckle to see if your brain-thingy was working, back on track. -Thor?

Banner looked at you kind of expectantly.

"Ha- have I met that one before?" Still making that face, you held your head as it hurt slightly. Thor- something, something important.

Barton didn't like where this was going, he had gone from his relaxed state to the edge of his chair. Had this become an interrogation without him noticing?

"I mean, you could have," Stark shrugged as nonchalantly as someone that might be hiding something would, from within his reclined chair. "I mean, you don't remember before almost ten years ago," he shrugged again just as innocently.

This was Stark's game? Steve's eyes widened in realisation- that's what the science bros thought you were?

Wilson again was becoming much of a wallflower, again, he had been recounting the time he had a fight with the smallest man in the world before you had exploded into laughter. How would you even know Thor? Was he wrong to think this was simply chicken and beer?

"I like Loki more," you sighed suddenly.

"What?" Nat was wide eyed, she almost fell from her perch on the couch opposite, beside Banner. No, no-no, no. She was a perfect judge of character. She knew you by now. There was simply no way. She felt the carpet being pulled out from underneath her as she fell into a spiked trap below.

"What's what?" You don't even remember three seconds ago. What were you talking about? "What's what? Wut? Whut's Wat?" You just kind of said what until it lost all meaning, like a random mouth sound. You looked to Natasha, so thin- but her rear, so perfect- at like everything. "I wuv you Natty Nat," you felt like crying all over again.

She didn't know what to say- hell, Nat didn't even know what to think. She thought you were transparent, but you couldn't hide what you didn't know. It scared her to think she could never truly know who you are- until you remembered yourself. You could do anything, unleash the Chitauri a second time? You suddenly seemed that much more unpredictable. And it scared her. Scared her how close she let you get. Scared she couldn't let go so easily.

"You said you liked Loki more." Banner tried to bring you back to the real topic, he had his head cocked, he had taken the same pose as Clint wore, he was observing you but you were too fucked to know what for. Who were you then? This took a turn for the unexpected, did they really want you to remember you past if you were an ally of Loki?

There was this Loki and you were laced around Steve? Bucky grew a stony expression, becoming rigid like granite.

"More than who?" You stretched changing position on the couch coming to lean on Bucky's warmer arm, wow, Barnes was pretty, like moments ago he was awesome but like now, he was pretty. He had a stern expression, his eyes mysterious and dark, he had to know, you had to inform him, "You're really pretty Buck," you drawled.

James relaxed from his stone state moments ago. Here is where the infamous Bucky Barnes of nineteen forty five would come up with a most witty and flirtatious quip- but he had nothing. No response. He was no longer that man. He merely swallowed, hoping he could blame the shade of his ears on the intoxication, he could feel you on his arm, and he wanted you to stay there.

"Thor!" Stark felt like tearing his hair out, all the answers were right there but you were too done-for to realise it.

"Oh- I know that guy!" You said loudly and triumphantly hoisting a new chicken leg to the air. But failed to explain just how you knew 'that guy' as you mowed into the flesh.

"Well, how do you know him?" Banner prompted carefully.

"He is the yellow power ranger," you smiled. "Well- I say power ranger," and it turned to a whisper to the chicken you were enjoying while propped up by Bucky's arm. "-I really mean Avenger."

"I think you're done interrogating her for now," Barton looked sternly at Tony, he'd had his fun. But he must admit that thing about you liking Loki was kind of scary- and how did you come to know either of them? Stark knew something.

Tony gave a sigh looking at you happy with your chicken. Suppose he was right, they'd never get anything helpful from you now, even to him, it seemed cruel to bring you back to reality given the time you've recently had- but the night was still young and there was one more to kill with that single stone. "Well in light of _____, being far too incoherent to figure herself out, I propose a game -of truth or dare." His brows gave a creepy wriggle.

“Stark, are you a thirteen year old girl?" Nat asked.

Indeed, it was but it was a means to his end. “Look out guys here comes Natasha Romanoff, deputy of the fun police,” Stark wore a pout you couldn't unsee.

“Come on Nat, just a couple of guys- with super abilities and robotic parts, what could possibly go wrong?” Sam gained a sly look about him, he had been to a party or two in his time and he had a score to settle.

Natasha was about to say more on the subject but noticed on the couch you were seated there was a pair of sparkling eyes. You had read of it, you had seen movies, you sadly only ever had Sebastian and he couldn't actually speak human words. A smirk came over her, “you're right, what could possibly go wrong?”

Both Steve and Bucky knew of this game but perhaps they didn't play as they did in this era? Social boundaries were stricter, people had reputations to uphold and manners to keep, in their own era.

 

You making Bruce banner fill a washing machine with hydrogen peroxide, dish soap and yeast lead to yourself and Natasha singing a cringe-worthy rendition of 'girls just want to have fun' on top of the bar, which you didn't find degrading at the time but Nat certainly did, she wouldn't admit to having fun but she also couldn't hide the smile you created on her, Jarvis had provided the music and secretly filmed for future embarrassment

"I think we all want to see the speech you used to give in front of soldiers." Clint chuckled to Steve, shortly after he was made to shoot a drumstick that played as a makeshift apple from Romanoff's head, which was only proceeded by the Cyndi Lauper classic.

There came a very heavy sigh, still, with more than couple of beers laced with Thor’s brew and a slight of whisky in his gut he stood from the couch, and put his hands on his hips. "Not all of us can storm a beach or drive a tank. But there's still a way all of us can fight. Series E Defense Bonds. Each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun."

"Yay!!" You cheered and seemed to be the only one cheering as opposed to the others laughing. Steve was so like Captain America, they were one in the same, he single handedly like save so many people! Wow! "Okay Cap, your turn." Please pick you, but also don't, you didn't know if you wanted to be the one to be stupid or to watch the stupidity. What was the point of the game, who won really? Shit, you were feeling kind of warm, was it a side effect of alcohol? Or was it the close proximity to Bucky Barnes.

"I don't have anything." Steve scratched at his neck. He couldn't think of anything he wanted someone to do or know.

"Boo," you mocked loudly. Cap went from like your favourite person to your least. Ugh. There was always one. Goody two shoes spangly stars wasn't creative enough or dirty of mind for this game, you'd think he would have learnt something from those few pages of Natasha’s book. That gave you an idea for a future dare..

"Well then I will instead then," Natasha swooped in, she had already been a part of a few dares, targeted as she was named the ‘deputy of the fun police’ "_______, truth, or dare?"

But you just thought you didn't want to be picked! You gave her big eyes as you were at her mercy. You had no choice, hmm, truth, or dare? Well, they knew everything embarrassing there was to know about you now, so why not- "Truth?" You squeaked like a mouse in the face of a scar eyed lion.

"Who do you love most in the room at the moment?" She had a twinkle in her eye, she did so love to meddle, Steve knew that first hand and you were too far gone for your social receptors to tell you ‘no’.

Hmm. There was Cappy Cap, but then there was mummy Hawk and -pretty Bucky. It certainly wasn't Stark. But there was also Ms. Romanoff, your teacher, and understanding Brucey Banner, Wilson was over there trying to put his wings back in working order after you requested to try them on- he couldn't be your favourite, he was your ultimate rival, that wouldn't make sense, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. You made a face while pondering.

James eyed you casually enough.

You made a sound like the first letter of a name, before correcting yourself. "-no, I don't want to rank you guys, you're all my favourite." You beamed happily.

There was a chorus of ‘awwwws’ for their princess.

But Stark wasn't having any of it! "You can't just say no!" He said incredulously.

"But I just did!" You snickered, helping yourself to more chicken.

Banner was counting how many pieces you were eating, you were confirming something for him. You were built for feasts, maybe they should up your food portions? You still looked the same as always. Were you stuck like that?

Oh, there really is no helping the matter. "So you pick dare as forfeit?" Romanoff arched a very fine brow.

"If those are the rules," you shrugged.

Well, you had asked for it. "I dare you to give one of the super soldier boys a kiss." She said dismissively. Such fun to do a little meddling, it was their fault for starting the silly game.

With that Mummy Clint narrowed his eyes at the black widow. He was already slightly upset he wasn't your most favouritest person in the room. "______, you don't have to kiss anyone you don't want to." He said in his usual protective way.

This wasn't a thing was it? "It's just a kiss," you said with a furrowed brow obviously not really understanding the importance, setting down your chicken, wiping your hands and mouth with a napkin as you thought.

It was nothing, you given Clint a kiss on the cheek before, Bucky; when he was dreaming, the only one in the situation who hadn't met your lips was Steve, that was weird, why hadn't you kissed Steve? He was the best! You easily had spent the most time with him, in your slightly dazed state you couldn't comprehend it. You stood to make yourself taller than Steve sitting down and brushed your lips against his forehead.

Rogers wasn't ready for it, you chose him? Of course you chose him, you were always by his side, best little friend a Captain could ask for. How many beers had he downed? He had also been introduced to whatever Stark had in his flask. -There was that time you carried him from the shoreline, you found his Bucky for him. He caught you off guard with large arms around you for a big bro-hug.

Nat gave Banner a secretive look, she felt like she had won something. Meddling pay off was sweet.

In cuddly Captain Cappy-Cap's arms you saw Barnes with his pouty lips avoiding your eyes. Why was he acting like that? Oh. The one he loves- is dead. He was feeling left out? No, you didn't like pretty Bucky looking like that.

You glided over to where Bucky had a mopey expression on his face, he always had that look. Mr. Mopey. You leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheek, out of instinct he brushed over the side of your face with his metallic hand, before you knew it you were caught by those grey storming eyes.

It was just a kiss wasn't it? He -loves Baker? You felt even more in a daze than before as you sat back down in between them. You were in a euphoric moment of feeling the love. You loved these people, you love them all, you wanted to feel the love too. Love felt like it was burning you.

Nat blinked. You weren't exactly supposed to kiss them both, that was more confusing than anything.

That's right, you get to do this now don't you? Oh, they will feel the love. "Banner, truth or dare?" You asked suddenly. People were still kind of stunned at the proceedings. You fanned yourself. Maybe your should ask Jarvis to put on the air con? You felt like you were melting a little.

What if you asked him something about- no, it would have to be; "Dare?" His voice was a higher octave.

A sneaky expression took over. "You have to dance with Nat," you smirked at your own genius, you were a fucking master mind, a fucking hot ass master mind, you fanned yourself some more, were you the only one here feeling this heat?

 

It was such a bizarre thing to watch a Tony-less, Iron Man suit do the Macarena of its own accord. You wiped away a tear, that was amazing. Jarvis had found it rather demeaning, at least it sounded like he had felt that emotion.

"Okay, Princess, truth or dare?"

You felt a grimace grow, if it's Tony, it could only mean bad things, "Dare," you said defeatedly, he would only ask you something creepy for a truth, not to mention the dares have been the best part of the night. You were coming back down at this point, for a while there you swore you were puppeting yourself from above. You had switched which side of Buck you sat on and had taken to leaning on Bucky's mech arm for something to cool yourself down.

"I challenge you to an arm wrestle," yes, the end game.

Your usual fear for hurting people was gone in the whisperings of alcohol that now said you should knock him on his ass. "Okay then." You smirked, wiping a slight of sweat from your brow.

Banner noticed if no one else had. Was there something wrong?

Tony touched something on his wrist as you came to kneel by the coffee table.

Oh it was on, like, all the things that might have switches, yeah.

Steve noticed the dreamy look on Bucky's face that had stayed there since you gave him a peck on the cheek. Was it the alcohol or something more? He couldn't help but smile.

Tony's iron gauntlet was much, much bigger than you had remembered. Was this cheating? What was that?

"This is my forty-eighth model of suit, I'm calling her Veronica." He smiled but feared for the coffee table, not that it was much to him.

You felt the challenge. How could you let him win? You gave him your best arm and then you grabbed onto the thumb of ‘Veronica’ because she wasn't flexible enough for hand holding.

"Okay, one, two -three."

No, no-no, you pushed with all your might but he was gaining on you. This was much bigger than the tonnes you were benching. It felt like arm wrestling with the Hulk. There was a crashing noise and the coffee table gave way, the battle came to be on the ground. You were centimeters from the polished flooring. Then- nope. The smug bastard had won. Damn it.

"I won," he gloated. Did he just stick his tongue out at you? Childish son of a bitch.

"Rematch!" You implored.

"I'm sorry Princess, but the result will be the same." He smirked further until his entire face was just one big smirk. Yes, this suit was going to do nicely. Project Veronica; for code green. If it could beat whatever you were in an arm wrestle, well, it might just stand up to the Hulk. Still, he might have to poke the bear to really test it, he gave Banner a strange look.

You weren't going down like that, you had to beat him at something, you were stronger than his regular suit. That wouldn't be a win, you looked to where Bucky sat with an odd expression on his face. "Not me, Bucky's arm against your regular suit." Your eyes sparkled, he could do it couldn't he? That arm, you had made it better than ever.

Stark piqued a brow. Now that was interesting.

"Come on Buck, you got this! Go get the shit head!" You placed your hand on his shoulder in a comradely fashion but found him leaning into you. Nothing had changed- had it? A kiss on the cheek meant nothing- perhaps the alcohol still had a hold on you.

"shit head?" Stark was offended with the iron man's arm on his.

A battle in robotics, your mind coupled with Nazi Germany's against the great Stark. The drink initially had left a pleasant enough warmth in your stomach. You were vaguely paying attention as there was something happening. The warmth was more like a heat, you felt yourself flush all over. There was cheering, someone had won. You were- burning up. You stumbled back from where everyone stood up to watch and back onto the couch.

Bucky turned to look at you smiling brightly.

You heard something like “well- I've got two, you've only got one,” and "my arm has to go in there, it can't all be hydraulics!"

James really did have a wonderful smile, it reminded you of a clip of film they had back at the Smithsonian. So- pretty, you came to grimace. It was burning your insides.

Barnes' smile was fading.

You couldn't really hear the commotion, you saw them shift in around you. You had many pairs of worried eyes looking at you. Something was wrong. You had to get away. You stood on the couch for a moment, bounded over, dashing away to the other side of the room with your back to them.

Stark put a hand on Bucky's shoulder as he tried to go for you. It could be dangerous. You could be dangerous right now.

Your hands. They shook. But more than that. They burned, more than burned, they were on fire. A few flames licked at your palms. It should hurt but it doesn't, you were making this happen. Oh, God, what were you? You tried squishing your hands together to put them out. It only made the fire larger.

You swatted at it but it was like the flames were sticky, they showed up in other areas. What would they think if they found out? You took a deep breath. You liked it here, you like these people. This was the safest place for you and the the rest of the world. You wanted to stay longer.

Your shoulders rose and shrunk, you had forgotten fear and panic. You were reduced to one knee. You hated it. Make it go away. You felt sweaty and hot all over, you couldn't breath. First the strength then this? How the hell were you supposed to control this? Monster, monster, monster. No! Please. You were happy. You hunched over gasping for air, the world bloomed in blotchy purple flowers. Then finally blackness.

 

"Steve what does that mean- how old is she?" James still wasn't fully understanding, his eyes a dark storm watching over you.

Cap himself was kind of lost, Tony seemed sure of himself, and the videos Stark kept hidden away, from the crater you made chasing the hulk, to the video of the memory experiment going wrong, it seemed undeniable, but how could you be-? Why wasn't anyone looking for you? "I don't know Buck- she could be older than even us." His brows drew together. You said you remembered doing terrible things and after mentioning Loki tonight- he didn't want to think about it.

Bucky’s brows creased, you were right, you weren't anything like the person he knew. You weren't Baker anymore.

 

You woke to see Barton staring at you from his chair, you tried to move but your head was pounding, why was he looking at you like that? What happened last night? You got up suddenly ignoring your thundering head. Your hands, what happened to your hands? Were they okay? You looked at them front and back.

"-Clint, what's wrong? What happened?" You asked panicked.

Barton thought for a while. He'd came to think he knew you, but did he really? He'd watched your for years in your own home doing your usual quirky things they weren't something you couldn't fake. You were a good person, but perhaps not as human as he had first thought. And you didn't even know.

Banner begged him not say anything. But was it really fair? "-it seems you drank a little too much _______," he returned affectionately. It wasn't fair, no, but- this was something you had to figure out on your own. He almost didn't want you to figure it out. Where would that leave him? Left behind?

"I-i drank too much?" Yes, how could you create fire from your hands? Pfft. That was dumb, must have been a dream. A stupid, drunken dream.

Barton watched your expression quell with that, yes, he would delay you remembering all he could, so you wouldn't leave him, not just yet. Like a mother bird hindering you from leaving the nest. "You want some water for that headache?"

You grinned with clenched teeth, holding a hand to your frontal lobe. "I'd appreciate that very much."

 

The tower was quiet, well, as quiet as it comes to your ears. You couldn't sleep, those burning hands- they were too real. Not to mention your head wouldn't shut up about the fact that you thought kissing Bucky Barnes was a good idea, even when it wasn't a dare anymore.

Your fingers itched for a pencil, you lit a lamp and brought out your drawing equipment. You must have forgotten the last time you faced a blank sheet of paper because you started drawing lines, reaching for colours, added textures. Cold blues. Fierce pooling reds. Words flowed into your head as you drew.

_There once was a Princess that lived in a tower. She had two princes and six knights. When time came to vanquish a vile monster they fought for her. They killed for her. They bled for her. And they died for her. They die ______. They die for you. It's your fault _______. Your fault._

You lifted your colour-smudged hands over your eyes, you could see it, you couldn't close your eyes nor could you look away. It was freezing, forever freezing. Your fault. You came back to yourself, you were on your bed and you were staring into the dead eyes of someone. It was Steve, a lifeless Captain America, along but is pile of dead Avengers. You felt sick.

Their bodies were frost bitten and bloodied, the had been beaten before their bodies finally gave out. “it's my fault”. You felt tears rising. What was wrong with you? You dream these things and now you draw them, your head filled with them. A sudden cool metal was felt on your waist where your shirt lifted slightly as and arm snaked around you.

You felt his breath in your hair as he sat behind you, he pulled you closer to him. You heart gave a spasm. What was this feeling? Safety? Was it safety? You picked up the drawing in shaking hands, Buck must had seen it but he said nothing. Your screwed it up, angry at yourself, throwing it harder than you'd ever thrown anything in your life.

You told him how you'd dreamed his death- now you were seeing that in waking life too. The memories that plagued you and the monsters. He saw them too in his own way, he saw scientists and assassination victims. He held you tighter still, of all the people, it had to happen to you.

"Buck?" You sniffed.

He hushed you, "You look tired ______." He stated ignoring what he'd just seen, it was clear it wasn't something you wanted to talk about. He stood, taking your pencils away from you. Helping you lay back.

James was right, just how long had you spent drawing that monstrosity? The night's city scape could be seen through the window it was lightening a little by the next day’s sun.

"Sleep, I'll be in my room if you need me," he promised.

You know you shouldn't. He made you feel safe- he chased away the hollow feeling in your stomach. What did it matter who he saw when he looked at you? You were passed falling, you loved him. He didn't need to love you back. You intercepted his arm as he was turning to leave, taking a hurried step out to do so. “Please- stay with me.” He just needed to be there.

James blinked back a dark look. “I don't trust myself,” he admitted.

“I do-” you pressed your forehead against his pinker shoulder.

Resigned, “I’ll be just over there,” he thumbed over his shoulder towards your couch. “-bed’s too comfortable anyway,” he added in mutter.

You made yourself let go of him, “thank you,” he helped you back underneath you covers.

When you were lying on your back staring at the ceiling, you heard him speak softly, staring up at the same ceiling. “I'm going to look after you ______.”

You were only on the cusp of wondering what he was doing in your room so late when you started giving in to your heavy lids. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess cats out of the bag right?  
> Thats what the science bros think  
> Are they right?  
> Ever felt like you're the only one not in on something?  
> Thank you for your lovely comments and theory craftings~  
> And for the 235 kudos, hype~~


	20. Volatile chemical reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Thor

The park smelt like freshly cut grass. "What have you got today?" The very handsome Sam Wilson asked in his morning sweats, wearing a masculine deodorant.

You groaned, you looked like you were carrying two full eighties boomboxes on your back. "Your looking at twenty-four," it hurt to even say it. Tony had it made up yesterday and was all excited about it this morning with one of his infamous wake up calls. The man was a damn sadist.

"What's that in elephants?" He needed something he could relate to, sure you could say a number but no one could really tell a weight from that.

"Three fully grown elephants and a baby? Literally like a family of elephants," you panted after a moment of thinking- it even hurt to do that much.

"Ooo," he sucked in his breath in sympathy of your pain.

"Ah- let's talk about something other that the cruelty of what Tony Stark has me do." You grumble walking steadily by his side, step the wrong way you think you might break an ankle though you had to admit your bones weren't as fragile as they had been- it was a precautionary. 

"-that date I scored you with the receptionist, how did that go?" Instead of following through with Wilson's strange plans, again, you just went up to the pretty little girl at the desk, said that Sam wasn't all that good with women, and that he was wondering if she was busy Saturday. You were that smooth. And it worked. Maybe those 'puppy eyes' worked from a far.

"Actually, it went kind of awesome." He smiled showing a slight gap to his teeth, reliving the events of that night.

You wiped away some false sweat, “I thought you were about to tell me she was into me too,” you smirked. 

Your smile soon vanished, you were on a battlefield, your numbers were small, you were dressed in army greens. Explosions left plumes of dirt in their wake. It was cold, there was a smell of smoke.

“That was one time!” He exclaimed bringing you back. “Woah- you went there again.”

“It's all good,” you passed off, they come and go, some easier than others, “can't help this animal magnetism man- I attract all the humans,” you gave a faux egotistical stretch and laughed it off. "Who is the best?" You prompted.

He forewent the worried look, he knew you hated that and sighed exasperatedly. "You might be."

"Yeah I am," you chuckled. "Now, details my man, let's hear them," you clapped your hands together.

 

You could see two figures up ahead, they looked to be running. "Looks like they're at it again," you chuckled.

Steve was always just out of reach of Bucky, tauntingly so. And you told Sam he didn't know anything about the opposite sex- “Should we give them a run for their money?" he offered.

"I'll do my best," you panted picking up speed.

 

She looked damn fine. The dress was the same hues as her eyes, it was tight and short. 

You, however, felt like a nobily newborn giraffe in comparison to her grace. Not only this- but she smelt fantastic too, probably to hide her usual scent she was covered in a perfume that was both sweet and spicy. "Are you sure about this Natasha?" It came out like the squeak of a startled mouse. 

You felt the need to pull your own black dress lower to shield some of your legs- however that would mean showing almost all of your cleavage. Damn that woman's silver tongue somehow having the ability to talk you into coming this far.

"You told me you have never gone to a 'rave'," she sighed. A rave? Perhaps in the noughties, no, she would introduce you to a club tonight. You couldn't spend forever that innocent. 

Clint enjoyed showing you things that you might of missed in your years locked away alone, but Natasha figured this was one she had to take upon herself because she couldn't see Mother-Barton ever doing so. And she wanted to create these memories with you before- well... she wouldn't say it out loud. Before she might have to kill you. She was as cold and as emotionless as ever. She remembered to deadpan once more.

You regretted saying anything about raves, what was even the function of these shoes? Certainly wasn't walking. You hobbled behind her unable to keep up as Nat was obviously well-verse in heels. 

You had been on a few small missions meant for one but you came as a tag along- you were stepping out, getting confidence. There was something out there waiting for you, but with Natasha by your side how could things go wrong? At least that's how she had sold it to you.

"Come along _____," a now-rare smile played on her lips, you attempt to hurry. Perhaps the shoes were too much? Stark tower was in the center everything, the walk to the night strip was only two blocks. Maybe she should have considered a taxi though. She offered a hand to pull you along which you accepted gratefully.

 

It was dark. Well, except for the blinding, green lasers. You liked music but you weren't quite keen on having it perhaps loud enough for it to be pumping your blood around your body for you. 

There was a distinct smell, you could only guess it was from the same substance that had the soles of your shoes sticking the ground. You were almost thankful you weren't in your bare soles. Almost. 

It was around eleven o'clock, Nat said it was peak hour. And my there was a lot of people. You lost all sense of personal space. You were having enough trouble walking without being shoved and glued by some unknown substance to the ground. All you could do was focus on clinging to Romanoff's arm. 

Nat found a spot amongst the people she deemed good, she had a clear view of the exits, it was a habit; a byproduct of her work. She gave you an encouraging smile as you became a stiff penguin in the midst of the party. Nat took both of your hands in hers- "loosen up!" She call over the music.

You felt Nat pull your arms with the music. You looked around to see no one was looking at you. They were all too preoccupied by themselves or their partners. You moved a little to the music, no one cared if you could dance or not or how clumsy you were- as long as you didn't step on toes. 

You felt the beat with your body, Natasha twirled you around. You felt yourself smile. This was kind of fun- you just had to forget that other people were here. You jumped around a bit, Nat showed you some of her finest moves which you came to copy- it was like fight training all over again. 

You spun around, closed your eyes and felt the music running through you. You were about to laugh giddily until you faced forward and Nat was no longer there. Where was she? Someone bumped into you from behind. The masses sudden felt like they were closing in on you. 

"Nat?" You called but you couldn't make your voice loud enough. The lasers illuminated faces for mere seconds. You felt like a lost child. 

The green of the lasers came to be blue- the world faded to grey hallways. Blue energy was being fired towards you, you tried to take a corner to hide in but there were people rushing all around you. Rushing forward they got hit by these blue lasers and- they vanished. Men made calls and screams- each of them fading to dust.

The music thrummed thought you once more. Someone came in close from behind you. You could feel their body heat. Their scent wasn't familiar. They didn't say anything, just started- grinding against you. You stiffened. No, no, no. You didn't sign up for this. 

You tried to escape- push them away, it came out pathetically. You didn't want to hurt him- even if he was much too old to be here, even if you found him creepy as hell. He was touching- you swallowed. Think good things, Banners voice sounded in your head- the creep behind you was going- right for your innocence. 

You wanted to scream. There was an abrupt tug on your arm. Oh, no- another? The green of the lasers illuminated his face, was reflected in his grey eyes. You let out a sigh of relief. You found your smile again, he was wearing a black, knitted long-sleeve that was snug and hugged him in all the right ways, it made him look unbelievably cuddly. The sweater was rolled up his arms so there was moments where the colourful lights bounced off the metal of his arm.

This isn't how Bucky remembered social events- the women, they were all too handsy with him. Wordlessly he ignored what people now called music and offered you his hand. He twirled you under his arm, you were clumsy on your feet.

You couldn't hear him chuckle but you felt it.

This wouldn't do, you couldn't even walk on your own, let alone dance. James put a hand on your waist, and place one of yours on his shoulder. Yes- like this. It was no swing dance but at least you weren't going to fall over on him.

You were so close your nose nearly bumped into his shoulder. He smelt like your current coconut conditioner, polished metal and some of Steve's aftershave, it was a comfort after the rush of offensive scents that came with the nightclub. 

This thing you felt for him was cruel, he missed his own time- you reminded him of it sharing the face of someone he loved from then. And yet- how could you stop? The more you delved into it- the more tangled you felt. You were to enjoy the moment. Even if you felt an impending, unavoidable, bitter end to the strange relationship you held.

Natasha was freaking out. Where had you gotten to? Had the thing that trashed your apartment come for you? Had you gone on a rampage yourself? Oh no! Clint was actually going to kill her- she had lost one of his children. She skillfully stepped onto a table that classily supported a pole. She looked into the dark crowd. Blue eyes- heroic squared jawline. What was Steve doing here? She cocked her head.

Steve saw Romanoff up there on the table. He gave a simple point in your direction.

Nat piqued a brow at your position with Barnes before looking back to Steve.

He beckoned her to follow him.

"How did you guys find us?" She asked in the brisk night air, out the front of the club away from the loud beat.

At this Steve smiled, remembering. "Buck, out of the blue asks me; 'just what is a night club anyway?'"

"And you told him?" Natasha squinted at the sly Captain.

"It's where all the kids go to dance- only it's less of a dance, now isn't it? I showed him this on 'youtube' and he all but dragged me here to go find her." 

"It won't be the same without her around will it?" Romanoff spoke solemnly.

"So that's why you brought her out?" Cap too felt his mood dip.

Nat avoided his eye. She didn't open up to people, she didn't get close to people and yet- there you were, a little innocent ray of light, it wasn't her fault she found you funny at times, it wasn't her fault she had come to care for you. She wanted to nurture you into being a woman, she knew you could be much more than you gave yourself credit. But if you came threaten the peace in the future- she wouldn't let her emotions get in the way.

Steve put a hand on her shoulder, "she hasn't gone yet- we don't even know if she will." Cap knew better than anyone how 'not the same' it would be if you left.

Romanoff nodded- though she didn't get her hopes up, everyone seemed to leave around her.

 

"Amazing- just," Banner marvelled again.

"What is Bruce?" You sighed, he always got like this when he finally got you to his lab, he had proposed this shortly after you watched the sunset with him in your little zen garden, he had found a new meditation tape for Jarvis to play to the two of you. You didn't even think you had the capacity to get angry anymore with Bruce's calming teachings.

"Your skin- since we have added zinc to your supplements, it's stronger." He beamed at the little sample you just kind of let him cut from you. But there was something else- something even more exciting- he couldn't tell you. Your skin wouldn't burn, you could be set on fire and be absolutely fine. He then took out a measuring tape and started taking your -foot size, of all things.

You shrugged- you just went with it at this point, he generally didn't inflict pain, or at least he asked beforehand. Most people probably wouldn't trust a man that hid a rage monster within, to do what whatever they like to their body, but you did. 

And you knew of a spider that would much like the same, “so- how's Nat?” You asked nonchalantly, as his measuring took him to your inner thigh.

"Nat- I imagine she's fine- why bring her up?" He fumbled over his words slightly with the sudden mention of Romanoff, the very mention brought a blush that he didn't find taking the measurements of your waist.

"Oh- you know, reasons-" you said absently looking into the distance, those two were consenting adults- why hadn't they got their shit together yet? Staring at him the world shifted but Banner stayed. You were in a room with stone flooring and ornate wooden tables it was lit with the warm glow of a fire or which sat a cauldron. There was an older man standing next to banner, the tips of his ears were slightly pointed.

"What, why? What has she said?" The gamma scientist was flustered.

"Just, things-" you shrugged nonchalantly.

His eyes narrowed, “who are you looking at?”

You were watching the tall man with long white hair mix something together in a beaker. “An elf I think- I must really be going nuts,” you chortled.

He eyed you warily knowing there was nothing he could do. "And how is Bucky?" 

Was the good doctor playing with you? He pulled you away from the elves scientist. You looked into those dark eyes and studied him. James is in love with someone who has passed on, someone not quite your gender- it's not common knowledge so you played this game- "I am unsure what you're implying." You smirked. "Though, you should really come dancing with us on Friday night, I've learnt Romanoff is quite good at the-" you attempted Stark's brows, "table dancing." 

He almost dropped his measuring tape. “W-well, he has taken up residence in your room hasn't he?” He took your chest measurements.

You thought of how, at another time your heart might have fluttered at Banner doing this for you, instead you went pink of another reason. “Bucky sleeps on my c-couch because we both have nightmares- s-seems natural we should keep each other company while you all enjoy your eight hours,” you blundered.

“Is that what they call it?” He measured your palms, fingers and wrists exactly.

“Banner!” You reprimanded, dismayed. There was some cheekiness behind that labcoat.

 

She was shiny, she was moss green, she had freaking racing stripes and she had a lime glow under the hood because she ran on her own Arch Reactor. -but there could be so much more. It was the third time you had build and pulled apart the old Mustang that had once rusted away in someone's back garden. There was a wonderful metallic and chemical scent about her- it had become a home comfort. 

And now she hovered.

You held your chin in a thinking manner probably smearing your chin in black machine oil, what more could you possibly do? Stark did the same with his dirtied band tee. As you tilted your head slightly he did the same. But what else could you possibly do? It felt a waste to simply leave her like this.

"I think I found something you might like Princess." He declared after a while still looking at the car. 

“More of your father's blueprints?” You looked at him and suddenly you were looking at someone else. He had only a mustache compared to Tony’s usual flare, his eyes were also dark, in fact he looked a lot like Tony, but -not, he was dressed in slacks and a blue button down, complete with red bow tie.

“Yeah, we’re already half way crazy with this thing so why not- you're doing that thing that you do, again,” Stark grabbed up a clean rag for you.

Tony was Tony once more and you lifted the rag to your bleeding nose. “Why not what?” You smiled underneath the rag.

He looked back to the green beauty, he hated pretending it wasn't happening. “Why not take this thing on multiple terrains?”

“Boat-hover-car?” You asked slightly muffled, you looked over her again.

“Submarine-boat-hover-car,” Tony corrected.

You turned to see him staring back with his brow piqued. "Study-sesh?" You asked as if anyone else would have proposed a slumber party. 

"You know it!" He returned. But would it even matter? Would he even get to finish it with you? Stark had come to enjoy the presence of his little apprentice. You treated him like the smartest man in the world, which he pretty much was- you should know better than to stroke a man's confidence. He might come to -have feelings for you. 

There were moments where you would surprise him- almost as if your had hundreds of years of forgotten knowledge, you were unexpectedly good with chemicals and mechanics. Would he even be able to take you for a drive in this thing? Would you ever drive it yourself?

“What the fuck is that?” You interrupted his thoughts, looking over what seemed to be the inner workings of one of Tony’s arm, shiny, lying strewn on a bench, only, it was too small. It wasn't going to fit him and certainly wouldn't fit Bucky.

“-n-nothing,” he used you towards where the note pads were stored.

You looked at him suspiciously. “Is that- for Pepper?” You wanted to retract your words.

“Yeah- so?” He walking back to the car, supplies in hand.

Your face pulled in a disgusted fashion. He obviously wanted to hide it. You knew he loved himself- but dressing her up as iron man. That felt all kinds of wrong, you shouldn't kink shame but- did he have shame?

 

  
"The squids have been asking for more drawings from Aunt _______ you know?" Barton lead the conversation, just as the food had been placed down in front of you.

It felt weird for his kids to be calling you aunt after only meeting them once. Though you seemed you have made quite the impression on little Cooper as Clint made you hoist the tractor up for his chance to be a mechanic. You don't even think it was necessary- Clint probably just wanted to show you off. 

The kid's eyes were blown wide as you picked it up as simply as anyone would a tissue box. You weren't all that good with kids but he followed you most places after that making you lift things without reason. 

The whole family at one point went to the dam where they skipped stones, naturally, you won. Your ability to kick entire trees down and carry them to Clint for chopping made you very popular with all the family. 

Even Sebastian had mosied on over to you on the first day, seems he missed you as much as you did him, he sat there on your shoulder for most of your visit, Clint had remarked that the little black guy wouldn't just sit on anyone's shoulder. It was only you. 

You never wanted to leave him again hearing that, but if Stark wouldn't let his own girlfriend have a puppy you weren't going to be allowed to keep Seb with you. You promised you would visit again when Barton allowed it.

"I told you-" you sighed sadly, "I would if I could but, I keep drawing horrible things." You spat out a few more good pieces of work before they finally all turned rancid. You mourned the feeling of finishing a drawing that didn't make you want to hurl. 

You lifted the unknown bright orange thing to your mouth on this huge spoon. It had a pungent curry scent, in fact most of the restaurant shared the likeness in smell, as if the upholstery and wooden furnishings had been basting in it their entire existences. 

Clint often took you out for dinner, just to see you try new things you had been deprived from. This was sweet, creamy, there were spices. Yes, Barton was right, this is awesome. You were making this strange face you did when you encountered good foods.

"I see you like the butter chicken." He chuckled.

You looked to the wood in the table you were seated at and saw a worn, wooden bench it had scraped, marks and instead of delicious butter chicken, a small mechanism sat, your hands were covered in oil- you tweaked the mech a little and it came to life with the smell of ale in the air. Of course, you knew this small bronze monstrosity, it was a little humanoid robot that ran off ale, it had a tap in a humourous place if you ever wanted to take some of its fuel.

You shook your head.

Clint was looking at you with a dim expression, he had watched you twirl your spoon like a screwdriver in midair.

“Don't look like that, I'm fine, -after dinner can we do some more archery?" You asked almost like a child asking permission from mother. You found yourself with the knack of archery, though you played it that you were quite useless at the bow and arrow, Clint seemed to enjoy teaching you so it became an excuse just to hang out with him.

"Haven't you done enough for one day?" He found his smile.

"No!" You scrunched your face up defiantly, you like the way he chuckled at this.

Barton wanted you to come see his brood again soon- before- it is too late. His smile came to fade, what were they going to do?

 

Steve and yourself shared the same pathetically puffy faces. The same bloodshot eyes.

"But I liked that big marshmallow guy." Woah- come on Rogers! Keep it to together. 

You walked by his side- feet dirty from the outside world. "Why did his brother have to die!?" You couldn't understand it. You sniffed. It just wasn't fair. The writer must have been an evil mastermind. "-but it was just so- good."

You remember this. You remember keeping Steve's company once before when he cried, as you walked you saw an old English bar that had been burnt, you walked through it passing a second Steve Rogers sitting alone at a table amongst the blackened rubble, he had a glass and bottle of whisky though that would never get him drunk. The feeling was somber, someone had died. Someone important.

You walked on and left the scene behind you.

Movies were something both you and Steve enjoyed- he knew you liked stories and he found something reminiscent in a cinema. Sure, budgets were higher and so was the 'definition', colours were vibrant- but there was magic there, the atmosphere, the smell of popcorn- some things don't change. Disney had change from the last movie he had seen which was Bambi, you were making a fan out of him.

"I haven't cried this much since Mufasa," you moped as you finally came to his door which was situated a couple of apartments away from yours.

"-who is Mufasa, _____?" Steve asked confused, he didn't think that was on his list.

You made a face- the poor thing, you were both going to make his life that much better but you were also going to ruin it like you had with Bucky. "I'll show you tomorrow if you aren't out on mission." You smiled.

"I'll just might take you up on that _____," he messed up your hair like he always does.

 

When you finally got to your room you noticed a certain morbid air. It was dark. But not dark enough that you couldn't see the silhouette of a cross-armed someone sitting on your couch. You touched the wall for the switch for the lamp by your bed. When the room was finally visible you saw the scowl you could only feel in the dark.

"Buck? Are you okay?" You asked the seething man on your couch.

If possible Winter frowned further in response.

"Was something wrong?" You put a hand on his.

Winter let out a disgruntled huff before reaching for the remote beside him.

You furrowed your brow- just what did he want?

When he pressed play an all too familiar scene opening played. Tony got movies before they were even released- yourself and Steve only ever went to the cinema because he enjoyed the popcorn there.

"But Buck I just saw this with-" you started.

Winter turned to glare you down.

"Steve," you came to squeak at the end. You found yourself rather quiet after that. “But it was so good- why not watch it twice right?”

Winter settled next to you as the film got going. He liked how you came to lean against him- he didn't even think you realised you were doing so. Winter wasn't going to just let you go- when the time comes; he'll tie you up if he has to. He curled a possessive arm around your middle.

 

Even you had to be wary of that arm. He was much quicker and much more skilled in combat than any of them, and that arm packed a hell of a punch. Through all of it his curled lips were smiling, how sadistic? 

But really, you were enjoying yourself too, the near misses, quick swipes, the moment an inanimate object gets in the way and is smashed. He scent, how the black v-neck hugs his very muscular figure, those broad shoulders, the slight scruff on his face, the length of his hair and the intense look in those grey eyes. The smile was most welcome though. 

You were often more distracted than you'd like to admit when you were around Bucky Barnes these days. You couldn't quite compare him to the broken man you found in the sarsaparilla factory months ago.

Over time he became Bucky Barnes, the winter soldier. He was charming and sweet, dangerous and brooding and never all at the same time, and you let your heart quietly smoulder for him even though when as it flickered it also left searing pain.

The your feet were in the mud, you were partially coated. You both wore green, he didn't look like your Bucky, he was clean shaven, his hard was cropped shorter and styled in a more suave manner. There was a hateful flame behind his eyes and he certainly wasn't smiling.

You weren't paying attention again and you felt a strong and metallic arm pull you to the ground. You gave a squeak.

"Pinned you," your Bucky gave a confident smirk. 

Those upturned corners in his lips- You weren't going to take that. You shifted your weight to roll the two of you over so you got to pin him back, but- it didn't go the way it was planned, he used your momentum against you, rolling twice so he was once again on top.

He straddled your hips and pinned your hands rendering you useless. "Pinned you again day dreamer." He chuckled whole heartedly at the dirty look you gave him. He didn't notice the lewd positioning till after.

Bucky had really grown, himself, if you weren't giving your all he could easily pin you like this, it both scared the crap out of you, and excited you a little. His fighting form was unrivalled and you were still so clumsy.

The hand that had pinned your arms came to brush some of your hair from your face, you shivered at the cool of the metal. His eyes fell to your lips swallowing so that his Adam's apple bobbed. 

James Barnes was very tempted by you by now, you who wears unneeded glasses, floral patterns and hates shoes, but also the you; you didn't know you were, the you that wasn't just in the quirks. The you that was indescribable, the one hard to put words to or written down.

It wasn't you he actually wants is it? Just the person you remind him of. Did you care anymore? Your face began to feel warm- you heart beat like you had just ran a marathon.  
There was a sound of the elevator door opening, Bucky went very rigid from the point where he was leaning in.

You don't think you've ever seen him move so quickly, you mourned what could have been but chuckled at the man who was standing as straight as he was now. You could have kicked who ever came in the door. 

"Steve!" You got into a crouch quickly and pounced, you knew your strength by now, as long as it didn't involve aircrafts, and with the blue mats below; the Captain fell in a heap with you on top of him.

"Down Princess!" He scolded in good humour, you realised then he was all suited up in his uniform of spangly stars.

"Nuuuu," you said dramatically as he pushed you from him.

"Something's happening in the lab and I have been asked to collect the two of you." He looked at you in a way that made you feel like you were on death’s row.

Something was wrong here. You weren't going anywhere- stop looking like that! You were handling yourself better everyday, it wasn't about to change. "I'll be right up after I've changed into something that doesn't smell like Bucky's armpit." Tried to quip but there was nervousness to your voice.

“You've been sniffing my armpit?” James piques a brow, he was clean and you knew it. He did use your shower after all.

Cap couldn't hide the smile that claimed him watching you two converse. His eyes grew sadder, would this really end?

“Sounds wrong when you say it like that!” You scorned Bucky.

 

You approached the briefing room, or Banner's lab, and there was a scent. Something you didn't know but was familiar, it smelt of sweet, buttered mead, metal and something old; old as time. 

You thought you could stealth in, after your quick wash, you had replaced your training clothes with a new black dress that had pretty flowers, a maroon cardigan that was far too big, and a cloud of grape soda body wash scent. All these things were evident of Nat taking you shopping last week. 

No such sneaking happened when you came to that door. As soon as that door opened everyone's eyes were on you like they'd just been talking about you. Hell, they could have been, you taken to not eavesdropping on them, but the look in their eyes said that you might want to pick it up again.

You scuffled over to where you saw Bucky with Cap, there was a slight frown to his features. They were all silent. And staring. You hitched your horn-rimmed glasses up to look at the other person in the room. His long blond hair was more luscious than your own, he had a short wisdom's beard to match, he had a strong nose and he was literally wearing a cape with his other worldly looking armour. 

Oh shit, it's Thor from the television. Finally you meet the yellow power ranger. Your excitement boiled down to something else, as you didn't like the way he was looking at you. He made you want to shy away. You moved closer to Steve. "-sorry, uh, proceed." You said quietly.

"Indeed _Thor_ ," Stark put emphasis on the name as if to let you know who it was rather than use his usual nicknames. He had told Thor nothing of you, nothing of what they had come up with; it was more interesting this way. "Proceed," he waved a hand.

You wanted tell Tony you knew very well who this person was. You now recognised him as the God of Thunder from the many mythological books you had got your nose stuck in over the years, the yellow ranger, still had his scalding blue eyes on you, like he had seen a ghost. -you didn't enjoy that look. It sent chills through you, there was a prick of fear at the back of your neck.

"Uhm- yes," he proceeded in a very deep and noble resounding voice. "Loki has eluded us he has escaped his prison and -we have not a clue where he has went." He confessed, looking slightly embarrassed in front of his fellow Avengers. "I wanted to ask for residence here while I search Midgard for him and perhaps- some assistance?" He said the last part a little higher than the rest.

Loki? The one who murdered eighty people over two days hiding on earth? And Thor, staying here? He made you feel like you had swallowed an entire shard of ice, you did not like the idea of him being here. You'd never had someone rub you the wrong was so fast before in your life. -not even Stark- 

Were you judging too quickly? His eyes were lingering on you again. You felt yourself subconsciously reaching for Bucky's arm and brushing against Cap's.

"I don't see how that would be a problem." Stark smiled as if you were all the best of friends staying together on a camping trip. 

Why was he looking at you too? What was Tony plotting? What was everyone's game plan here? Some were wearing frowns others were looking at you but pretending not to. You looked to Barton, you could usually read him like a book but he was not facing you and it felt deliberate. You could be paranoid- these were your avengers, and more than recently your head was a bag of cats.

"Is that all?" Banner asked.

"Yes, I think it would too dangerous for my brother to return here, and so I doubt he has come back, but I was sent because I have the most affinity with Midgard while others search the other plains." He held each word with dignity; he was real royalty.

"Why does it take the escape of a mass murdering God of Mischief for you to come see us?" Tony pouted after a strangely cute voice you wished you could unhear. It only worked when you did it- that one time.

"I have been busy helping rule over an entire realm." He took the question too seriously, drew his brows together, though he did wish he could spend more time on earth, a human woman by the name of Jane Foster came to mind.

"I believe this is meeting adjourned, now all of you out of my lab, I want to do another gamma sweep, maybe I can find out if Loki is among us by searching for his sceptre." Bruce shooed, mostly he wanted to see the events that transpire after the meeting, by the looks so did most of the room.

Amen to that. You wanted to get out, that 'Thor' gave you the willies. You held your head low, sticking close to Bucky some more. You were about to step into the hallway, to freedom, when a hand on your forearm stopped you, it was a familiar gesture- a 'well met' greeting. You liked nothing about it. You looked up to see the owner of the large, muscular arm. A pair of blue eyes drilled into you.

"Vör?" He had used a questioning voice. 

What was the word? Another language? Chills ran up your back like bugs crawling under your skin. Vör; it was a name. You knew that name somewhere. He was asking if you were Vör, your stomach did a flip- that name. -no. "You are mistaken, my name is _______," you couldn't hold back a glare.

Thor's grip on you did not change. "I am sorry, you just resemble -an old friend." He only searched your face further instead of leaning back.

Banner's ears burned, friend was good wasn't it? But he had hesitated when saying it.

This interaction was making you feel kind of ill and there was a dull ache at the back of your skull, he was literally making your head ache. Your stomach was telling you to flee, the same part of you was saying he is after what's in your wardrobe, the same you haven't looked at for the longest time. 

You felt your heart pounding quickly in your chest and the blood draining from your face. This was happening so quickly. You felt like the sand castle you had been building for the past years had just been hit by a high tide.

Your blood was draining from your face. You felt a warm hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay Doll?" Bucky asked you softly, his lips by your ear as any gentleman would if they were seeing a girl harassed by some man. But the steely eyes of the soldier landed on the god, though he definitely wasn't as sturdy as the man in front of him, it didn't mean he wasn't willing to fight to keep you.

"I-I'm fine," though the stutter showed you weren't exactly confident in that statement. You yanked your hand from the blond's grip.

Aye, you were strong, least more so than any human, weak for an asgardian like himself- there was something more to this and Thor was going to dig a bit deeper.

You walked steadily away but felt as if something was chasing at you again. Out of sight, your steps became more hurried. You were falling from the horse. You were relapsing and quickly. Your hands shouldn't do this anymore. Damn it stay steady! You grabbed at the key that forever hung around your neck. You were all but jogging now. "Residential Jarvis," you puffed.

"Are you okay Miss? You look pale." The computer yet again assimilated a concerned tone.

"I-I'm peachy Jarvis, I think the run this morning is getting to me, I need a good sleep." You over detailed, Clint said that was the first step to figuring out a lie, never over detail. You could only hope it wasn't in Jarvis' programming to figure that out. 

When the lift's door opened you skidded around to your apartment, unlocking the wardrobe. You looked inside the black backpack with its own locks. Goddamn it. Safe and sound, safe and sound. Except. They weren't. 

They weren't safe with that guy here, your gut said so. In fact, you didn't have time to pack. You bet he was on his way here now. -he knew. That name. There was another sting, like a sudden bite behind your eyes. You raised a hand to you head where it was hurting. 

Never mind that- you had to get out. You relocked the bag. You- you didn't want to leave. Curse these things, they have ruled over you for so long, you had forgot for a month or two but it didn't matter; they owned you. You greedy, disgusting creature. You wouldn't let anyone have them not even knowing what they're worth. 

There was still some money left in here, a little water logged but still useable. You didn't like running, the constant fear and now with those things out there, those that you couldn't tell if you have imagined- But how could you stay? 

For a time, protecting these things were your only reason for being. You put the bag on your back. Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, James Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, even Tony Stark, all those you loved, you were sorry for the betrayal that was about to unfold. 

You felt your eyes well up. This morning you didn't think you could be happier and you were right. Happiness wasn't what you deserved, you were just a dragon watching over your gold. You stood and turned only to find Bucky Barnes standing in the doorway of your walk-in.

There was quiet as he calculated the things he was seeing "-you're crying," it was a simple observation but it meant so much, the last time he had seen you cry was when you drew the death of the avengers and the time before you had confessed to killing a man. A hand reached for your tears but you flinched away from the touch.

No, it wasn't something you deserved right now.

Barnes wasn't going to take that, if you were going to dodge his hand you would have to dodge all of him. He trapped you in his arms as you had once done for him.

He was warm, he smelt like home. You pulled yourself from his grasp, skidding into the next room. "I have to leave Buck." 

He flinched like you had just stabbed him. "Why-?" No, you couldn't. He still needed you, he will probably always need you. You had to keep him in line, you had to wake him from the nightmares, you had to be his sparring partner. You just had to be there. You were his comrade.

You were by the window by now, it was quicker, you had to hide from the actual Avengers, you needed the greatest head start you could manage. "Selfish reasons, crazy reasons, stupid reasons-" you couldn't look at him. Only to the scattered books on your floor and on the walls. 

"-well, let me come with you," his frown deepened.

Steve needed him, and there were things out there, things stronger than even you- he would get hurt, you couldn't have that, not on your account. "-you'll only get in the way," you tried to sound cold but the tears had it less convincing. "Where I'm going, you can't follow James." 

You couldn't bare to look at the wound you had dealt him. You hated yourself for it, you hated these infernal things you wore on your back, they were a curse on you. A curse you brought on yourself to keep you from ever being happy.

You gave the center of the window a fierce whack, for all the anger you felt toward yourself, the bulletproof glass shattered, it all but exploded sending thousands of diamond shards in its wake. If you weren't mistaken, there was a scent of burning carpet, even superheated plastic. You couldn't trust much of your mind anymore, including your sense of smell. 

"But, ______, I-" his eyes stormed on. "Don't leave." he spoke over himself as if a second person contended, it was a command. He felt himself fill with dark emotions of sadness and anger. 

You were all he trusted, you and Steve were his pillars, if he were to lose one he would surely fall apart and you were willingly doing this to him? Not even going to give him a reason.

"Please don't look for me," you looked away from what was slowly becoming the Winter Soldier's glare. Every moment you stayed you lost your head start, every moment you stayed it would be harder to leave. You felt a tear fall, "goodbye." You tried to smile. Jumping from Avenger's tower for the last time and becoming enveloped in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our reader is a little nutso, I can related~ it's okay little reader, you'll be okay.  
> Bit of back stabbing for the sake of those items, must be important or something. *shrugs*   
> I have had two weeks off school to be really sick, so that's why there has been so many updates, I've got a shit tonne of work to catch up on~ so I hope this is enough for now.  
> Also don't google the name Vör unless you want spoilers c:  
> Thank you for your support and your comments~ 241 is a butt-tonne of people, I love you all, thank you!!


	21. Geiravör, the wise and careful

Stark massaged his forehead. That, was not what he had expected. If you were running from Thor whose side were you on? You were scared enough to leave the tower to leave people you had once called family. Or was that all a ruse? This wasn't really the right way to have gone about this was it?

It was an hour since you took flight. Steve stood shoulder to shoulder with a very unhappy Bucky who was staring long and sharp daggers at Thor. 

Everything this morning was perfect, everything was comfortable. He hadn't the urge to kill anything or anyone, his darkness was sated. But now- he gritted his teeth. This was all that man's fault, even Stark had a helping hand. 

Hell, he was pissed off at everyone right now. Especially you. The wounded bear effect had him want to harm everyone in this room if it would make him feel even slightly better. You wouldn't want that would you? So he bided his time.

Nat was disappointed, she thought she would see it coming when it happened, when you finally remembered and left them. Did that time mean nothing? She shouldn't be surprised. She has seen more betrayal than anyone else.

Barton was on the same train of thought. You said you loved him, he had watched over you for so long and yet- you didn't come to him for advice? Was this something you didn't think he could understand. He point blank refused to believe you could be an enemy of Asgard's heir. That would mean you had done something so bad as to piss off an entire race. You just weren't capable.

Banner was wearing his analyst's face to cover his feelings of your departure. He wasn't angry. Yet. Something greener was definitely lurking. He clenched at his fists. They only had to explain things and everything would be okay. And they'd better hurry. He let out a steady breath.

Well, what had Stark expected to happen? Thor to just waltz in here and realise you were a long lost cousin? For you to suddenly know your own head, for you to solve all your problems and become an apprentice that didn't stare blankly into space at times.

"Something does not add up, you say she was found her seven years ago when she had been gone for entire ages." Thor had been let in on your files and the suspicions of the two scientists.

"Well, just who the hell is she?" Stark asked desperately, he must admit he'd become rather attached to his little puppy but all he ever initially wanted to know was who and what you are.

Cap gave him a rather scornful look, he had told Buck before; it wasn't what you were but who you were, not on paper but in real life. He hadn't lost this much in one day since he was put on ice. He felt decidedly hollow. You were his little soldier and you left under his watch- there was no excusing it. How could he even begin to apologise to Bucky?

Winter's eyes filled with woe and blame landed on the rich bastard once more.

Thor gave a saddened sigh, "her name is Geiravör, my father was always so fond of her. She almost had as much free reign of the kingdom as I did. However people often spoke- unkindly of her-" he said solemnly thinking of just how to explain it. Things were different here. You could have changed so much, he knew he had himself.

"Jarvis, find what you can on 'Geiravör'" Stark spoke to the A.I as Thor paused, sometimes Norse myths spoke the truth- you could have come here once before. He needed to know what kind of beast he was dealing with. The holoscreens surrounding were soon full of articles on the Norse goddess Vör.

"The wise and careful one," Bruce read out loud.

"Well, that does rather sound like Princess," Natasha spoke as if remembering something lost and had remorse for the amount of emotion she had let slip. 

"She is a Princess here?" Thor asked utterly befuddled. Had you come here proclaiming royalty, used the humans as slaves? He didn't think that was in your nature- but you had been gone for ages.

"Amongst us she is," Bucky spoke coldly. There was an old painting he noticed up on the main screen when he finally tore his eyes from the God. It rendered you with perfect skin, it was almost luminescent, and a lot of it was showing. 

All it showed you to wear was metal undergarments, and a sheer material half-skirt that didn't even try to cover the front, without a doubt, that was you; you with very long hair just caught in the wind. Perhaps a little more muscular than you were now. You were there showing all that skin while walking on fire as if were the carpet you proclaimed such love for amongst the books in your room, sure, it was a painting, but it was so well rendered he couldn't help but blush at your lack of clothes. 

He remembered then seeing a lot more of Baker at a waterfall. Something only to be thought about when he was alone. How could a conversation like this be had with something so distracting hanging around?

It seemed Cap had noticed it too, purposely avoiding looking in that general direction, he cleared his throat loudly. There was no unseeing that.

"You say she is wise and careful," Thor went on not knowing of the picture situated just behind his head. "On Asgard they were more inclined to call her obsessive and paranoid." He chuckled but his laughter fell when he realised he was alone in finding this humorous. 

Banner felt like he had been delt a blow to the face, to say something so cruel about a friend- someone he found to have confided in. To have meditated beside in a garden several floors down. Although he couldn't deny the statement did hold some weight. "How so?" He almost ground out.

"She would sneak into my father's treasure room and gaze into the Orb of Agamotto, she would foresee a battle to come and instead of enjoying the proceedings would help negotiate peace before bloodshed. I now believe my father let her do it. -imagine, an Asgardian that doesn't enjoy glorious battle!? Naturally people spoke ill of her." He made a remorseful face. "I was one of those people, it was before I came to believe that war wasn't to be sort out but to be prepared for." It was no wonder that the all father favoured you.

The spangled one almost wasn't surprised, that's who you were. This was way before Steve, himself, had even been thought of. Before any of his close ancestors even. Could you have known them in your time? He thought he was a man lost in time. Where did that leave you?

"It says she was a Valkyrie, -like a reaper?" Banner was still scanning through articles- to be the thing entire aircrafts were named after- you were something else. It was definitely calming to the nerves to hear that perhaps you weren't all the bad- as far as Asgardians go.

"Reaper?" Thor's brows furrowed unsure of what he spoke of. "Vör was of our Valkyrie, a squadron of fierce women fighters, she was once a warrior but she took no pleasure in wars or killing," a sad expression pulled at his face, "-I believe it was because she lost her parents in the battle of Jötunheim; the same war my father lost his eye." 

You feared frost giants above all else since, probably hated the cold even more than that. "She requested leave and then picked up her quest in stopping wars. Yes, she was a useless warrior, as she didn't have the heart for it, but no one could fault her metalworking or armour crafting," he remarked thoughtfully at the end thinking of finally something nice to say.

As much as Bucky hated this guy by now, he couldn't help but agree with him on that looking down at his arm. It still shone as you polished it up for him the other day. You had been brainstorming new symbols to replace it while you were doing so, you'd said a small dinosaur would suit perfectly. You thought you were funny.

"She once said she liked Loki over you, she was quite drunk at the time, so we didn't know what to make of it." Tony probed, which side did you reside on- you did run away from the Avengers, it didn't paint you in a good light for him.

Bucky felt his ears prick up at this while he was still avoiding the painting's gaze and yet- was still trying to etch it into his mind forever. It was a very tearing experience, would he always be two minds about everything?

At that Thor laughed. "That one could never hold her mead could she?" But his smile came to falter, "Her parents were in very good standing with my father, when they fell in the battle of Jotunheim she was raised by an appointed handler and eventually beside my brother and I- she was always such a weak and feeble thing."

Steve piqued a brow at this, you really were always the little guy weren't you?

"She learnt magic from my mother and also the same mentor as Loki -I was always off saying how I would one day eradicate all the frost giants and there she was defending them though she had more reason to hate them than most," he really had been stupid back then. "The two of them liked each others company, and I believe Loki had eyes for her, but wise as Vör may have been she wasn't all that smart." He chuckled remembering a different time.

"You grew up with ______?" Bucky recounted narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, I grew up with Geiravör," Thor felt the need to correct, he knew you better than these Midgardians. Didn't he? He kept forgetting the time that had past- almost felt jealous that these humans had you when he had not.

He felt he had to prove himself, that he in fact knew you better than they ever could, "-I remember the three of us, when she was a Valkyrie, we were called for to deal with a rouge Nidhogg." He gave a hearty laugh recounting, it was often a story he told around a couple of kegs of buttered or honeyed mead.

"Nidhogg?" Steve felt like scoffing at the name.

"It is a great fire breathing beast with scales, antlers, wings and at times; fur, this one was the biggest I have ever seen and Vör simply went up and talk it out of attacking the village further." he laughed, often others did too, it was an incredibly dumb thing to do, conversing with a dragon. They didn't exactly speak common now did they?

Tony thought back to a certain tiger, yes, that did sound like the type of stupid thing you would do, tempting fate- you had done it to save him. Just as you for this village.

Banner could only think of the time the other guy speared you with a tree branch, perhaps you were more a negotiator than you gave yourself credit for.

"The fire engulfed her before she could say a word but she passed it off as if she had merely been splashed with a goblet of water." He spoke theatrically as he had told this story many times. "she was insistent but the creature would have none of it. She gave in and called for Loki and I, Loki had wanted to distract the beast with an illusion while I got behind to deal the final blow, things didn't go according to plan, Vör had already angered the creature and it would only target her. 

“She did not wish to kill it but when it breathed its next lot of fire- she redirected it back into the belly of the beast. It turns out that Nidhoggs are quite flammable on the inside. Still- I could never forget," his playful tone died down, "she sat with the creature as it passed, only saying soothing words." He had praised you like a proud brother for slaying the beast unknowingly- he had never had such a rowel with you before.

"Since you're such a loving brother, why did she run away just now? Why was she here in the first place?" Winter glowered. Though he was starting to believe you and this Geiravör were one in the same.

"That I can not say, however the same day she disappeared, as did the Orb of Agamotto and the Tablet of Life and Time. My father was in denial saying it had to be a coincidence, but neither her or the treasures had ever been recovered. -I believe her to be the thief," it was as if all the admiration that had came with the Nidhogg story dried up as he remembered both you and Loki had up and left him like that.

Did he call you a thief? Though, Bucky couldn't deny you have things that could fit those names in a backpack right now. He looked to find most others had the same conclusion. 

A long time ago Baker had said they were family heirlooms, said he was the only one of his kind left on earth- called his treasures the most dangerous weapons known to man. He thought Paul was being melodramatic.

"She has them," Tony finally conceded, he didn't know what they were, or what they did, but they seemed safer in a king's vault rather than someone who he's just been told was the weakest Asgardian to ever exist. You were a friend of Loki's, if you were to remember and hand those things to that- demon- well, he would prevent it.

Natasha grimaced. He was right to confess it, but she felt as if she had been a part of a betrayal against you.

The other Avengers looked at him with mutinous expressions and Thor's eyes hardened immeasurably, so he was to be betrayed by yet another sibling?

"Blue men with red eyes-" Clint said suddenly, "who are they?" The memory of that night when he saw the figure in the park was still fresh though he questioned it often. 

Clint had been sitting back and drinking it all in, his words didn't effect him all that much. It only reaffirmed that you had been a good person before the years he followed you. There must be a misunderstanding here- you wouldn't simply 'steal' even at your lowest points he didn't see you take food when you were starving. 

"You have just described the appearance of frost giants," the god frowned unknowing of what they had to do with the situation.

"I saw one- months ago, it was chasing her when she had gone out on her own, she said it wanted the orb and the tablet." Then entire room looked at him with varying degrees of horror they had heard from Tony's loose lips that you dreamt of these things but for their Hawk to confirm their reality- it was real and fear inducing.

"And you didn't think to mention that earlier Legolas?" Tony scolded.

"I wasn't sure I had actually seen it- if she is out there now- they're gunning for her." Oh, God. He'd just let his baby go to her death. Why hadn't he spoken up earlier? He hated questioning his eyes, he would be a mockery if his hawk's eyes weren't as sharp as he claimed.

"That is not good," Thor stated, he had no idea what the tablet did, or all the capabilities of the orb for that matter, but he knew in the hands of the frost giants it could only be bad news. Jotunheim was only too quiet these days with the loss of their leader. 

"We need to track her down," Nat looked desperately to Barton. There might be parts of the person they knew remaining and all of those parts were running from something giant, blue and very real.

"Tony-" Banner got an exciting idea, "that gauntlet, the one that touched the orb and reacted, it still doesn't work does it?"

Stark caught on quickly, he had it wall mounted in the garage, "just a scan away from the gamma signature on the orb, we can track the orb with it, we can find her easily enough, but I don't think we should intervene just yet, there is a reason she is doing these things, if we watch and wait, perhaps we'll find something out-"

"You do realise I will have to take her back after all this," came Thor's deep voice.

He had said it, exactly what they had all been dreading, except worse, you would be a prisoner for your theft from the king or maybe even worse- no one said a word. What was the Asgardian punishment for treason?

 

You avoided mirrors to the best of your ability, you couldn't stand the accusing eyes staring back. You did this to yourself. As far as cheap motels went, this bathroom was too bad, you glimpsed yourself washing your hands.

You ran your hands through your short hair, you'd done a pretty dodgy job of cutting it yourself. It was the brightest shade of your favourite colour now too, if you had learnt anything from Nat it was to hide in plain sight. You thought the colour would make you happy- it didn't. You'd left your glasses behind in some trash can and now wore a nineties leather jacket, ripped jeans and thick combat boots that made you feel uncomfortable.

Why did you do this to yourself? Why run away? But that's what you did wasn't it? You ran, always. You threw a handful of water on your face, it made some of your raccoon-esk makeup run a little but that only added to it.

When you looked again the appearance you had was gone, you were face to face with a woman in white and gold, she had your colourings, her hair was far longer though, intricately half up, an ornate golden circlet resting on her temple. Who ever she was- she wasn't you. Not anymore.

When you blinked you were looking at yourself, who was an angry looking panda with bright sparkly hair. The person looking back seemed alien to you. Who were you anymore? You stared deep into your own irises- you weren't an author, everything you wrote lately was poison. You weren't an avenger- you never had been, you kept yourself in check so you couldn't call yourself a monster. Were you- nothing? No one, an empty void tied to two unknown instruments.

It didn't matter. You had one mission, and that was to keep these things safe. You grabbed up your cap that said something quite lude on the front. Flicked of brightly coloured hair poked out the sides.

 

You would walk until your legs hurt, you threw away maps in the beginning as it did not matter where you went or where you ended up. Mostly you followed along the most populated areas which seemed to be along the water, you slept when your legs no longer obeyed and ate when you were starving, hid in crowds and took back alleys. You felt nothing which was more than you deserved for those you betrayed. Images of Bucky screaming Russian, pacing like a caged animal, harming himself, haunted you.

 

You don't remember your head ever hitting the pillow, you only knew you woke with a start. A chilling sensation ran the back of your neck. You were in danger.

You hastily rolled off the bed and onto the ground the moment a weapon came down from above rendering the bed off its legs with a loud crash. You had slept longer than you should have.

You looked up into the face of your attacker. The creature that had you running all you life. You had you crane your neck somewhat. 

He was tall. Three meters at least. He was big too. His clothes were made from various hides and he wore bones like trophies, namely a large bird-like skull around his neck. Cold hues in his skin, crimson eyes, scarred tribal markings. 

Your hollow shell remembered fear, but not as much as it remembered anger. This was the monster they made you throw your life away again and again.

He gave a feral roar, "where is it?!" beating his club down once more and you dodged, but only just.

It was on your back, you never took it off not matter how uncomfortable. Your nose wrinkled and showed a slight of teeth as you held back a snarl, you felt white hot anger pumping in your veins. You wanted your life back.

It didn't matter how much you glared or spat venom, you couldn't beat this thing. You knew that. You dove from the bed. The shitty hotel had a balcony, and you scrambled for it. 

If you jumped from here, he could follow, however he wasn't as small as you were or as nimble, maybe you could scale each of the balconies? Make it to the roof? He couldn't possibly follow. In your panic you jumped off the railing and caught hold of the one above the adjacent. You only dangled for half a second before you attempted to swing your legs up to meet with the next landing. 

Within that second you felt a large hand grab a firm hold on your leg. Despite your want for stealth you cried out in pain. Oh god. It burned cold, the boots gave no protection at all. It felt worse than a tiger's claws, and he was strong, so strong the grip he had on your ankle had you lose feeling in your toes, twisting in a wrong direction. A sudden arrow through the tall man's arm had an archer make himself known. 

You dropped down as he freed your foot, falling three stories knowing your injury could never make the climb up. You limped hurriedly out into the street where there were few cars at this time. Your foot was healing the best it could but it was still hindering your speed. You felt another presence come from the darkness and into the light of the street. 

He matched your wounded speed exactly, you caught a glimpse of a black leather uniform that showed off one arm. His long brown hair was taken by the wind as he ran and he offered you a metal hand to drag you along. 

You bit your lip from showing weakness. They stayed for you, they followed and they watched you- even though you left them without explainarion and intentions of never seeing them again. 

The blue creature's legs were far longer, he had the advantage. You felt his steps shake the ground you ran on. He was gaining.

The sharp shooter ran across buildings firing off arrows when he could. "James, get her to safety, Cap, you're up, I can't keep up like this," he puffed holding two fingers to his ear piece. 

As he commanded, you passed a figure in blue with a large shield, ready for the incoming giant.

He didn't understand. That thing was going to send him flying. You couldn't let these people fight your battles, much less be killed by your own demons. You came to a very sudden halt, losing grip of Bucky's hand. These boots did have their perks you supposed, as your feet didn't hurt from not scraping directly across the asphalt.

What were you doing? You were injured, he was going to take you away from this place.

You skidded back to Steve as the tallest man you had ever seen got there. You braced Cap's striped shield beside him as it swung it's frozen club. Rather than either of you going flying there was a resounding dong and crash and the ice shattered, falling onto the two of you like snow as the soles of your shoes had been grated on the asphalt one more. 

Steve looked at you for the first time. That- wasn't the you he was used to.

"Go, for now- get help," you ordered passing on your bag, you trusted him, your friend, your Captain. You needed Tony or even Thor, someone stronger than you; even with Cap there you had struggled with bracing the shield, there was no way in stopping this guy with your strength alone. 

You stepped out from behind the shield before he could object, you could hold it off till then.

There was an anger still bubbling inside. Before it was for yourself. But now it was reminiscent of that feeling you gained in the face of Blake Waternoose. This thing, had wanted to hurt Cap, your Cap. Your hands shook.

He'd be damned if he left you, didn't mean he didn't step back- you'd given him this- bagged thing, he couldn't let it be taken from him.

The creature was reforming its club from nothing.

Magic? Nothing in this situation was really computing you only felt the primal need to protect. Protect your Steve, your Clint and your Bucky Barnes. Your hands burned. You were weak in the face of this thing, but you didn't care anymore. The rage within you was going to kill it. 

It snarled showing as much teeth as you did in that moment.

No running. It's reformed weapon came down from on high. You side stepped it with a dark glint in your eye, as he was too busy on bringing the club down, the heavy attack left him open on his right and so kicked out a leg with all the force you could muster. There was a loud sound of contact, you felt the freezing through your boot. 

You followed through with with rib cracking punch in the exact area you just kicked. To your surprise there was a bright flash of light and the beast gave a howl of pain as you burned him.

He wasn't going to take such a beating from something a puny as you. He didn't even need his weapon. With his other hand, he went for your neck before you could retract yourself from your initial attack.

You felt the cold closing around your throat. You hissed at the feeling, your feet no longer touched the ground. You could pick up the sound of your own blood pumping around in your head as it was being cut off from its supply. You heard an arrow whizz by your ear but even stuck with its point the beast's shoulder wasn't deterred.

Clint couldn't use his explosive point because you were too close to the target, he cursed. 

You could only see those crimson eyes. You remember another like him, laughing, always laughing as your family lay dead in a heap. You felt a sickness overcome your body, through your throat was freezing, everything else burned. You wouldn't let it happen. 

You grasped onto his arm with burning hands and his flesh lit up, he dropped you in shock. His feet were bare, you knew, no matter how tough you were -a good stomp on the foot with steel caps was always going to hurt. Flames spewed from the thick leather boot as you put all your strength into it. A sniper's bullet cracked the air and a shield swung through to hit the blue oaf's head. Cap had stayed despite your request, you couldn't let the beast reach him, he had a target on his back from the bag you had given him.

All the giant could do in the onslaught was stumble further backwards.

You bunched up your best fist. Channeling all your anger, hatred felt and the feeling you gained realising the Avengers were watching over you even though you had traded them in for a bag of treasure. 

You couldn't feel your blackened, frosted wounds- a feral grin met your features, bright hair in disarray, eyeliner smudged, you aimed for the heart without reach for his head as the great, blue man leaned slightly forward in anguish at what you done to his poor foot. 

Your fist became engulfed in flames, you could smell burning leather as the fire climbed higher to your shoulder. You ignored the bizarreness of a flaming fist. You punch cleanly still. The flames burned through the skin, you gave a shove of the shoulder and you pushed further until your hand was frost bitten and thick with blood up to your wrist.

The creature wailed and cursed. It's red eyes fell on that chilling smile- he knew then; this demon was surely going to kill him.

You felt it there; beating. Could such a creature have a heart? You reached further in drawing out its heart, pulling it past flesh and bone so the man could see its own beating organ in front of him, before you channeled all the heat from your body to your hand letting the flames reign supreme. You burnt a great hole in where there creature's heart had been and it fell back. The heart's ashes slipped through your withered fingers.

What the hell? You became unsteady.

You crumpled to your knees in front of the body. There was a moments respite before there was a hand in your brightly colored hair. "-don't touch me Buck," you warned. You didn't even have to look to know the smell of the sniper.

He heeded your words but also realised you weren't pulling away. "Why's that?"

"You didn't just see that? I-" you couldn't even explain it yourself, you were scared of yourself, still looking at your ugly, bloodied hands. “I pulled its heart from its chest and watched it burn.”

"Do you want to do the same to me?" He asked calmly still patting your hair.

"Never-" you sniffed, him less than anyone.

"Then you won't" Bucky offered you his pinker hand and you obliged apprehensively, instead of helping you up like you intended he pulled you into his chest where you landed face first and he surrounded you with his arms. "Never run from me again," came Winter's stern growl in your ear, though Bucky realised it was rather fruitless now.

You missed his scent, you missed his gentlemanly disposition you even missed his stupid, scruffy, mopey face and the lurking Winter. You melted into him like you never thought you would again, your heart ached for him, you forgot all that you had just done, there was only him, until there was nothing hollow about you. You looked over his shoulder for a moment, and were met with a pair of disapproving hawk's eyes.

His arms were crossed next to a rather happy looking American icon who cradled a black bag safely in his arms by his shield. Clint cleared his throat loudly and Winter begrudgingly let go with a glare in your parent’s direction.

None of them asked what had just transpired, you had this nasty feeling they already knew. But how much did they know? About you? About everything? Had they been speaking to Thor about this Vör? 

It seemed your body wasn't all that good with healing frostbite because your neck, ankle and foot were still black and blotchy. You found yourself with a forties soldier under each arm as they shared your waist, leading you to their getaway vehicle.

 

Your head fell limply on Buck's muscled arm. Had your sleeping schedule caught up to you quickly, or was it that your body had over exerted itself into creating actual flames? Or healing this frostbite? All you knew was with his hand in yours, with the overwhelming sense of security and smell of home, you fell asleep rather quickly.

Clint was at the wheel of the van, he wanted to turn around, take you away, hide you away, the soldiers held faces that said the same. But every time he thought about smuggling you away, all he had to do was look into the rearview mirror, see those marks on your throat and he kept on driving forward. 

That was just one of them. There would be others, they were probably following you as he drove. Imagine what two could have done to you? Or three? Imagine if they hadn't been tracking you all week, could you have even taken that guy by yourself? Could you have been dead right now if Tony Stark had some self control and hadn't touched your orb all those months ago? Barton was coming to terms with the fact that earth might not be the safest place for you anymore as he headed back to Avenger's tower to hand you back to who was essentially your real big brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has some questions answered and in return has a few new questions~  
> I also hope those answers were worth waiting for  
> Thank you for reading~  
> And thank you for the 249 kudos <3 your comments are also always quite welcome.  
> I also think it's quite safe to reveal, to anyone thinking our little reader is too over powered that I am going off marvel's Valkyrie's stats and levelling them down slightly because I gave our weirdo reader firepowers because- fuck yeah, fire right? At peak- she would be a force to be reckoned with, but nothing Thor couldn't handle


	22. Asgardian?

You had been dreaming about something- something with winged horses and marshmallow clouds. It was a beautiful dream with rainbow colours. You don't remember the last time you slept like that.

The feeling of soft breathing on your neck woke you. He closely followed to curve of your body with his own, you were warm and safe, your heart beat in a way you thought it had forgotten how to. You could feel his softer palm against your stomach, snaked under your shirt. You let out a content sigh. This is where you belong.

You were here, in your room at the tower. “You're in my bed.” Was the first thing you thought to say, and with that you knew your ruined some moment. You made some inhuman sound as you stretched, twisting to face him. 

Oh lord- you'd have prepared yourself had you known he was just wearing the cargo pants to his uniform. Barnes' well formed, naked torso greeted you on the other side of the turn, you could see the scars adjoining the metallic arm, the rise and fall of his chest. Just where were you looking?

“I am in your bed.” He stroked down the side of your body, he couldn't muster a smile to match yours instead he held Winter's frown.

Your brain stuttered. That was forward for Bucky, you didn't know if you liked it because he wore a broken frown on his face and his eyes looked to be lost in one of the darkest storms, though they shine in the midday sun, only when he was upset did he look this much like the Winter Soldier you met under the bridge. "What's wrong?" You asked tucking a lock of his long hair behind his ear.

Bucky touched your hair in return, it must have been a mess from how you slept, but his expression never changed.

"-is- it stupid?" You asked about the outlandish colour.

"You're always beautiful." He said simply. Though he had to admit they didn't have that colour in the forties. He never did care how you wore your hair, he didn't fall for Baker because of his army cut.

You were expecting some pun at the expense of your favourite colour, but was pleasantly surprised with the answer. He was being mighty serious, something had to be wrong.

James caught your hand was you were retracting from his hair, lifting it to his mouth and leaving a soft kiss with closed eyes on your knuckles where you felt a slight of his scruff on your skin.

The action sent tingles that started at your fingers and raced around your body. You relished in the moment feeling a slight blush dust your nose, but cocked your head to the side. What had brought this on? Was it because you left before? "Bucky, I'm sorry I left- Thor-" 

He shook his head, and shushed you. All the anger he had felt faded- you would leave your side either way, at least he was able to watch over you in your ways for the time they were tracking you. He came to caress the side of your cheek, finally leaning in to kiss you gently on the forehead. Was what he was doing right?

-no, this wasn't right, this wasn't who he was, he'd rather make you swoon on the dance floor- he, he was the type to blush at simple things around you, winter would rather have you in a tackle, he was treating this moment like it was your last. "H-hey Bucky what's wrong?" You raised a hand to his cheek and he replied with sad eyes.

He avoided the question instead answering with his own, "-there's a ballroom Romanoff has found- it opens on Friday nights and plays swing music-" apparently Steve's comeback has made the forties popular again- though his words were sweet, his face fell further. "Would you like to go dancing with me?"

Your heart was trapped between sinking and soaring. "First tell me what's wrong!" You half demanded feeling a prickle behind your eyes.

He noticed you hadn't refused or agreed to anything but he couldn't bring himself say it. He didn't have to, there was a knock on the door but for the first time, Bucky didn't bolt away, he stayed close keeping his eyes on yours. "Come in," he said only loud enough to just be heard through the door and he slowly sat up.

Cap stood in the doorway, not even surprised to see Bucky shirtless as you had essentially painted a whole heap of giant's blood on his suit.

Oh no, he wore that same face -you weren't leaving, you'd never leave again, they came out to protect you anyway, they wouldn't let Thor take- where was your bag? You got up in a panic. 

You were only in your plain black shirt. Your foot and hands were bandaged presumably by Banner, you could only guess your neck was the same. Still- only in a shirt in front of these forties men. You were lost in your priorities and thanked the gods the shirt was long enough to hide some of your thighs as you stood from the bed. 

Both of the soldier boys suddenly got very distracted by other things in the room. You stomped past Steve. Where was your bag? God forbid Stark had it. Even worse if- Thor. You stormed towards Banner's lab.

 

There, on the steel table was an orb and metal tablet, confirming some sort of betrayal. You looked upon the room with cold eyes. Bruce? Nat? Even you thought Stark have more loyalties than this. Seems Barton couldn't bear to look you in the eyes as he stabbed you in the back, as he wasn't even there.

All of them; you had thought they watched over you as some sign of friendship, but it wasn't so. They watched over you because it was their job to protect the public- from you. 

They knew what that orb and tablet meant to you. You held a scowl to your face, they didn't know what would happen if someone got a hold of them- you didn't even know. 

You took steps towards the two instruments intend on harbouring them away in some sort of half baked plan in keeping them safe again, without even a planned escape route. 

The other man in the room took the same strides but instead towards you. 

You felt the second hand of the day grip your throat, thankfully this one wasn't as cold, though your frostbite screamed at you.

"Geiravör! You scrawny little thief," the blond royalty roared before anyone could do anything and as he lifted you with his hand still on you throat. After all, these days, what was a family rowel for him without violence? He looked upon you with the same scornful look he'd given his brother when he betrayed him, both of you; you were the same.

"That is not my name!" You growled back as best as you could with the restriction. "Nor am I a thief!" What was this about being a thief? This man didn't know you, he couldn't. Gah, why was your head aching? It was worse than the time you consumed that alcohol ‘not meant for mortal men’.

"Thor put her down!" Banner was still trying to keep calm in all of this but was gripping the table pretty harshly.

"Put her down? For what? So this weasel can scamper off again? Believe me; if I was going to hurt her she would already be screaming." The God's voice was as thundering as that he commanded. Yes, you would scamper away just as Loki had; he wouldn't let that happen again.

You were only kind of dangling up there like he wanted to make a spectacle of you.

"Why Vör? Of all people, why do you steal the Orb of Agamotto and the Tablet of Life and Time from my father's trove?" He had thought it was you but he never wanted to believe it.

Your head was thumping now. "I didn't -would, would I really?" You didn't think you were a thief, you'd never stolen anything before. No, he has the wrong person, you weren't named Vör though it had an eerie familiarity. "-I don't know what they are- I just-" your head was really paining you now, "need to protect them."

"You?" He scoffed, "how can someone as weak as you protect anything?" The god narrowed his gaze.

"Oh god, her nose!" Nat gasped, she hadn't been able to do anything, she didn't know what she was doing. She was so close to you but you were a thief? An ally of Loki? What could she do? She knew she had to shut herself off from the mission but how could she? You were just hanging there from your frost bitten neck obviously in pain though Thor had assured you no harm.

"Put her down!" Came a venomous voice, he was scowling with those storming grey eyes. Bucky hadn't wanted to see you leave with Thor but Steve had convinced him they had to see you off or else they would regret it. The Soldier's chrome fingers twitched to tear at the god's throat.

"I'm not hurting her," the Asgardian said again lazily.

Rogers knew this position, he'd had it done to him once before in an alley. Were they really going to just let someone like this take their Princess away? -did they have a choice? "Not hurting her? Her nose is bleeding." His captain's voice rang out. He wasn't one to get angry but he himself was also near furious.

He was right, there was one red line flowing from your nose, it was like all the information was taking a physical toll on you. You were finally placed to your feet.

That shouldn't have happened believed Thor, could it be that you actually got even weaker? No it was more than that.

You felt an arm around your waist trying to steady you but you pulled away from James's grasp. "Do not touch me traitor." You replied to his kindness coldly.

James' heart sank, that what he was right now wasn't it? "We're just trying to help-" he said quietly knowing how feeble it sounded. 

"I never asked for your help," you hissed looking around the room with an accusing stare.

James backed down wounded while Winter glared at Thor for even coming here at all. This entire situation made him feel hopeless, he was a mere human in between two brawling gods.

You used the bench to stand steadily, wiping the blood from your nose. "I don't know if I stole them, all I know is I have to protect them, something horrible will happen if you take them."

"The only thing that will happen is they will be placed back where they should be before you took them!" Thor didn't know the meaning of 'inside voice'.

Your head was blindingly drumming in hurt, but there was something you needed from it- there was something, "the-the blue men, they'll take them- then they'll-" damn it, you slammed your fist into the steel bench warping it, you knew what they were going to do with them- it was there, but the blinding pain, god, what was it? The stream of blood poured steadily still.

"Frost giants are nothing!" He had slugh more than his fair share, as had his father before him.

"Something worse than that," you coughed a little, "you need to let me take them away, hide them," you feebly reach for the closest of them but the Asgardian slapped your hand away.

"By the blood of Odin! You still wish to steal them away when you have already been caught red handed?" He asked incredulously, what was your gall?

You felt like ripping your hair out, you ran your fingers over your scalp, why couldn't he understand? Perhaps he would listen to something more diplomatic? "You seem to think you know me, why do you think I would 'steal' these things?" You asked desperately.

The lines in Thor's forehead ceased after a moment of thought. He had been so angry, you just up and left him and Loki like that, then Loki spiralled- was he blaming you for his brother's actions? How could that be your fault? It was his more than anything. His expression softened.

Why was he looking at you like that? Like you were wounded. 

"I think you had good intentions, in your paranoid ways you have done something very wrong Vör-" his tone suddenly became rather condescending.

That's what that was? He looked on you like you had an addled mind; pity swimming in those blue depths.

"For good or for bad you have to be reprimanded for all you have done." In all the pain of betrayal he was forgetting who he was talking to. It was you who refused shoes, you who negotiated out of bloodshed and spoke to dragons. Poor innocent Geiravör lost in your own mind.

"If you realise my good intentions, can't you give me your faith, just this once- you have to understand I'm trying to-" there was a stabbing in you head as your tongue had picked up a strange accent. What were you trying to do? You held your head against hurt.

"You don't need to fear, they will be safe!" It was like he was coercing a child.

This was hard to watch for any number of the Avengers, Thor was standing there looking down on you like he was approaching at a simpleton. They had come to love and respect you and this was as bad was watching him beat you up. They were becoming a mere audience to the discussion, it felt like they were seeing something they shouldn't be.

There was a sudden wash of anger and a spike of stabbing inside your head. "Loki would have understood." You had a moment of clarity with a sneer on your blood smeared lips.

Tony flinched back, his motives may have not been as the others- the name of Loki- images of the Chitauri, he wouldn't let the Avengers go through that a second time or the world for that matter.

"Do not speak of my brother!" Thor roared back.

You felt dazed, "brother-" you tried your cool fingertips on your forehead. "What does your brother have to do with anything?"

Again Thor remembered who he was talking to, you don't even know who Loki was before he came to earth.

"Take me, lock me up, have me stoned- I don't care anymore." All you have loved had shattered into glass that now stab your heart, what was the point anymore? The overwhelming defeat of betrayal drowned your will to exist. You never wanted to become attached to these people for this exact reason. In the end betrayal is all anyone was worth, they were only doing to you what you did to them.

Cap remembered telling you off for speaking like that once before, and you then inturn told James not to. He guessed that you thought they all felt nothing for you. Was what they were doing right?

"-just please, keep them here, safe; away from Asgard." You pleaded, he has to have a shred of faith in you.

"I can't do that dear Sister." He cooed

You flinched at 'sister' he even believed you to be his relation and he treated you like this? What was wrong with this man?

"It is out of my hands and into Father's"

You looked to those around the room. They avoided your gaze. All this time, and this is what it was worth? They believed you to be a thief to the gods? Your heart sank further. Hell. They could have the instruments, they could have you. What was it all for anyway? 

Maybe that's all you were. Some little thief made to forget- only to guard your treasures like a dragon and lose the life you lived because of it. It almost sounded poetic. It sounded like what a criminal like you deserved, or at least what this 'Vör' did. You shoulders sank. "Do as you wish." You stated defeatedly.

It was heartbreaking to hear, it reminded Bucky of when he met you in the old factory. You just submitted to Thor, not caring if it meant your own demised. 

Bruce now knew the answer to the riddle that was you, but he didn't know if he liked it. Should they have not picked at this sweater? Wouldn't life have been better with it unanswered? You would have stayed with them surprising them at every corner, would have stayed in his garden keeping him company. He clenched his jaw. 

There was a disgruntled darkness in him wanting to put his two cents worth in. A flashing image of the Hulk carrying away and you up the Empire State Building just to keep you played in Banner's mind.

Tony had been going over it in his head. Thinking of the possibilities, you could be in cahoots with Loki- you did steal from a king. This was above them, even if they made a stand for you- Stark eyed the hammer; Mjolnir, their jurisdiction was earth, to keep you would mean putting earth in danger in the face of an entire race of angry Asgardians. For once he listened to his inner Fury. The wasn't their fight. 

Romanoff thought to how she had beaten you into oblivion and yet you refused to bite back, was that really a thief's way of acting? She had taken you to all of the sights and shopping centres, never had you picked anything off without paying, hell, you hated her paying for you. She knew Barton was on the roof now still talking himself out of not coming down here and firing some explosive rounds in the face of the God of Thunder.

Steve stood there seething. He was going to hand off his little guy to a bunch of bullies, and there was nothing he could do about it, he wanted to be a hero to you as much as Bucky had been to him. He failed you. He wanted to take you in under his shield. He knew Thor, he was noble and good- how was he treating you like this?

"Don't look like that Geiravör," Thor couldn't help feel the villain of the situation. "You're finally going home." He picked the instruments up offering the Orb of Agamotto to you that came to whirl golden smoke within, maybe he could find you help, have you as a sister again- have you make up for what you have done and in turn he could make up for the way he treated you in the past. His father had treasured you, maybe Thor would come to do the same? It was all in the reasoning you had to steal; which you don't remember.

Home? That's what you had thought this place was. You looked around one final time. The moments you had with these people you knew to be your best. How had it even ended up like this? 

"I'll return to look for my other sibling after my father has dealt with her," Thor promised, it probably come out harsher than he intended, as did a lot of his words.  
Faces fell, what had they done?

You place a hand to the orb without saying goodbye; you didn't even want to look at those people anymore. You knew somehow by placing your hand, you would be taken away. You caught the fierce gaze of an archer entering the room as your fingers graced the orb- a metallic, golden eye came to stare back at you from within the crystal in return and the colours the bifrost once shared surrounded both yourself and Thor.

 

You were blinded by rainbows, you awkwardly stumbled further without sight, lead by your ‘brother’.

“Thor- you are back so soon? I some how lost sight of you down on Midgard-” the man speaking slowed looking down on you, a look of surprise coming over him.

You didn't realise who was talking, you blinked into seeing once more, noting only a tall metallic statue on a dais in the centre of the room, excepted looking further under the large, golden, horned helm of the statue was a face of fresh.

You were on a golden dome shaped room with mechanisms that did god knows what, turning around it seemed you came from a window of galaxies.

“Geiravör-” the not-statue frowned.

The man had a dark complexion, an unkempt scruff on his face, and piercing golden eyes. The same colour he wore in armour, with a high horned helm, every inch of him was covered in the yellow metal save for his face. “_____-” you corrected quietly.

“I lost sight of you long ago- how did you hide from my eyes?”  
You stared at the stone flooring dumbly, you didn't feel like words or questions. You felt empty and alone.

“I believe this might be the reason,” Thor was having trouble balancing everything, but moved enough to show the orb that was now clear of any yellow eyes.

“The eye of agamotto?” The golden man piqued a brow in your direction. That horrid orb was one of many things that may blind his seeing. “Suppose that would be the tablet of life and time in your other arm?”

Thor gave up on showing and only nodded confirmation.

“Vör, what have you committed?” There was betrayal in his voice as if there was once affection.

“_____,” you mumbled, you were realising the depth of your predicament. Stealing from a God king or was it king god? You were done for. The avengers knew that and still gave you away. They sent you to what could be your death. You turned away from the men, you didn't cry. You wouldn't let yourself.

“Heimdall, she doesn't remember who she is or what she has done.”

His brows drew. “Best to take her to the throne room then,” the man known as heimdall spoke sombrely eying you one last time.

 

Asgard at first and very brief glance looked to be a city just as you had seen on earth, yet the buildings were golden and warped, and built to such grandeur, you had wondered if you had shrunk. 

You stood centered in line with a great structure that seemed almost shaped like a wave crashing on a rock with its peaks and falls, it was the tallest building you thought to exist, even taller than the mountains that surrounded the city from behind. You stood upon what was left of a crumbling bifrost, whether you knew the names from books or something else you couldn't tell, because this place was giving you a nostalgic feeling. 

The clouds touched the buildings like pillows draping a blanket fort and water surrounded the entirety the shores then faded to became the stars. You definitely didn't feel like you were in kansas anymore. 

A scent was in the air that was as old as time and was lavished with meads and feasts. Were you heavier now? It felt like gravity was squashing at you, like the strength you felt on earth was draining from you. So these conditions are what made Asgardians so strong? You weren't built for it, were you ever? 

You, an Asgardian? A name made you feel less monstrous, still, how could you not doubt it? You had read of these people, watched it on the news, they were heroes, gods even, it didn't feel right, like you didn't belong here. 

The wonder and beauty of this place may have sat better with you had you not felt several sharp wounds of treachery in your back and in your heart. You looked at the reason why you found yourself here.

Thor was almost expecting you to gaze upon the great castle of Asgard and remember everything but found the smile he was supporting fade looking down to where you scowled. He heaved a great sigh, you and him never really got on that well did you? 

You liked books and he liked hitting things with Mjolnir. With his hands full of all three objects and not wanting to give any of them to you out of spite he started the great trek down the last of the bifrost to his father's castle leaving you to mozy by his side.

Where else were you going to go? Seems that orb was your only known way back to Midgard. There were guards just about everywhere you stepped, why was everyone here at least twice as big as you? 

Why were you still only wearing a shirt? It didn't seem to bother any of them though, in fact anyone who had visible eyes looked as if they expected you to be running around pantsless. You saw the odd disappointed shark of the head. 

Hadn't Thor said something about a prisoner escaping? Was it really all that safe for you up here? Everywhere you went there seemed to be danger, what else were you expecting?  
"Ah-" he said after a while for the first time realising the trek to the castle was a lot longer in silence. 

You looked up at him still not in the greatest of moods.

"-your hair, it's different-" it sounded like he was trying to compliment.

Was he was trying to bond after tearing you away from everything that was good to you? You squinted up at him. "Different to what? Something I don't even remember having?" Perhaps you were being too cold to someone who says you're their sibling? 

He didn't give you all that good of a feeling, given that what he was saying is true and you were his sister, what kind of relationship did you have? Did you dislike him even then? You didn't look anything alike, how could you be related?

Thor came to shut his mouth after that. Perhaps you and him weren't meant to get along? Even when you didn't remember all the discord you hated him.

You were brought to steps at the end of the broken rainbow road. Lord. He wanted you to climb all of those things? With this gravity?

 

The blond stood up the top of the stairs looking down with a piqued brow. "You really have gotten weaker, I would not have thought it possible." He scoffed he meant it in good humour but again you just glared up at him. 

You weren't even the strength of a commoner at this point- or even a child. Guess you had also lost your use for magic too? He almost felt sad, he had seen you in your prime against a Nidhogg, seen you as one of their Valkyrie, at fighting, you were one of their best, though your heart wasn't made for battle, you were weak, why would you have done this to yourself?

You'd like to see Sam up here now, you might actually beat him at something. You wondered what the others had said to him when you left. When you finally brought yourself panting to the top landing Thor was just waiting, looking down on you. You wished he wouldn't, you were as able as the next super soldier, this was cruel.

 

It was the first room of the building. It was large and polished into gleaming, with grand pillars and sculptures. If only Waternoose could see this, then he might know how to build a real palace, the doors seemed open to its people, given they could climb those stairs. There were only more guards in shining golden armour to be seen. 

It was like entering one of your dreams seeing the world gleam as it did. There was a man residing in a chair at the end of the room. You had seen this ornate chair before, you have seen this man before, those same wise lines graced his features. You had both drawn him and wrote of him and how he had lost his eye, hell, you signed that book for Phil Coulson. Upon the tall back of his chair were two ravens, you didn't have to ask the names because you knew. Hugin sat on the left in thought and Munin sat on the right in desire. 

How could all these things be possible? Were you really from here? There were flecks of reminiscent things like the stone floorings pattern or the shine of armor. You head was spinning in the confusion and pain.

When he saw you the old man had a crinkle in his eye. A smile, only something that was lost and finally found could bring. "Geiravör?" The man had to squint to figure it out beneath the oddly coloured hair. His own hair was white and fell by his shoulder, as did his beard, his armor looked much like his sons.

It hurt your brain, but, you knew that face, you longed to remember like he was once the only one that cared for you. "-All father?" Why does it sting to think?

He smiled and beckoned you closer to embrace his lost daughter and you felt to oblige, an open hug? You felt like this was something might have missed. 

You were stopped by Thor's strong hand on your shoulder, would you harm him if you got any closer? Thor still didn't quite trust you. "Father, I found Vör amongst the humans alongside the Orb of Agamotto and the Tablet of Life and Time." He motioned to those which heavied his arms.

There was a sudden change in how Odin perceived you, he recoiled as if receiving a blow to the face, he had already been wounded by one of his children. He never thought you capable. The scars on his heart from your departure and Loki's betrayal ran deep, deep enough to almost have his heart freeze over.

He was looking upon you with disappointment? You never wanted him to look at you like that, him especially of all people. Why would you steal from someone you never wanted to disappoint? It didn't even compute.

"Why steal them my child?!" He cried the lines on his forehead becoming prominent.

You didn't want to disappoint him further, you held a hand to your head, this was important, what was it. "I can't-" you screwed up your face. Think damn it! "I wanted to protect them," is all you came up with.

He looked down on you disapprovingly. "You took them away from my trove to protect them?" It sounded as ludicrous as stealing from a bank to protect the gold, there was no safer place in the nine realms than his treasure room.

"I don't know what I have done," you confessed. You had a family? All along you had one and you had done this to them? Maybe you were Vör? You discreetly wiped yet some more blood from your nose before it was even seen by the light.

"How can I prosecute what you don't remember doing?" He asked knowingly. Still, his little Geiravör, whom he watched grow up, stole from him and ran away- it hurt. 

"She truly believes she was protecting them father," Thor piled up further. "Not just that but frost giants were seen to be watching her on Midgard."

"Not only did you steal from me, you put yourself and the treasures in harm's way?" His mouth became a firm frown. He didn't share the same image of you the others did, he could tell his son was thinking you not in your right mind but Odin once had much faith in your wisdom despite your quirks.

You knew what you were doing and yet proceeded to do it. You must have reason. And depending on that reason it could make you no better than Loki. His eyes lingered on your throat, yes, most things wouldn't harm an Asgardian but frostbite? He had to keep you somewhere safe, what if they were still after you? But what were your motives?

You looked to your feet, one bandaged with black peaking through the gaps. Was this what it was like to have a father? Maybe you deserved it. You couldn't defend yourself, how could you? You can't even remember.

"Until you remember what you have done you will stay locked in your room, I can't trust that if you do remember you won't try and harm my people." He decreed with sad eyes, still unmoving from his throne. "Guards, have the treasures taken back to the vault." He ordered finally and you watched as they went. Please. Please be safe and sound.

Seems even here they feared you, but Thor had said you were weak. The difference in opinions was giving you a hard time in discovering just who this Geiravör was.

 

This room, it smelt -like you, it might have been warped a little with the scents of half made metal and leather armors, that sat on the wall along with quite an amount of books, they were older than anything you ever remembered owning with browning edges and peeling leather bindings. You longed to see what was inside. 

The bed was golden framed and supported different animal skins and blankets with hundreds of pillows. It had cold stone floors and a large window by the side of the bed. On a desk was what looked like dry pastels, charcoal and an abundance of old drawings. The familiarity with these things was just gnawing at you. 

You reached for a notebook, flicking through yellowing pages to find drawings- a younger looking Thor smiled back, a winged horses, a dragon, your flicking stayed for a moment landing on a page of a portrait. It was a man with long dark hair, the way he looked back at you made your heart tug strangely but -that was Loki, you'd seen him on the news. He brought aliens to manhattan, slightly repulsed you placed the book down again.

Every now and again their were scorch marks on the furniture and walls around the room, a pacing line of burns ran the length of it. This place wasn't much different than your old flat. Geiravör had lots of time on her hands, that would explain the hobbies and knowledge. How long did an Asgardian live for anyway?

"Father wouldn't let anyone touch it, he kept it that way you liked since the day you left." Thor looked remorsefully over the room, he hadn't really looked in here, never had reason to- it seemed forever ago. You had hated your possessions being bothered. 

You had almost forgot him there, you were too busy marvelling over the room. You noticed a little wolf that seemed to be hand sewn sitting on one of the pillows, he looked to be very loved, fluffy and worn. "That wolf-" it had a name, what was it? "Did it have a name?" You asked the person claiming to be your brother.

"I'm sorry- I don't recall." You'd think he would know something as simple like that. "Your mother made it for you before-" should he really be saying this? But there was no point in deluding you. "-the war of Jötunheim, they fought valiantly but your parents-"

So you never did have real parents, you were almost expecting as much. You really didn't look much like Thor who had been claiming to be your relation. You remember slightly- a smile of a beautiful warrior in shiny armour. "-his name is Hati," you said distantly before shaking your head a bit. Strange that things like that keep happening. "So you're not my brother?"

"Not in the blood sense, but I have no real siblings- we were brought up together, you, Loki and I." He was remembering his expression vague. Perhaps he should have been a better big brother? After all, how both his siblings turned out-

"Loki is the one who set the chitauri on earth," you cocked your head to the side.

"He- he's different to what you might have known him as," he deliberated after a while.

Strange thing to say considering you didn't know him at all, only what you'd seen in the news.

"Something happened to him, or was he like that all along? I curse myself for not seeing him suffer as he did." He then looked to you. "You knew him better than I, maybe you can change him." Yes, when he finds him next he would have you see him. Despite himself- Thor found himself it a single thread of hope. They were the thoughts of a desperate man.

You had no idea what the man was talking about.

"- he has gone missing recently, when I leave here I'll recommence my search for him." He spoke with renewed vigour.

Naturally you knew the mass murderer on the loose better than anyone. This wasn't helping your case. You really were a thief. There was no brakes on the whirling memories, would this thief take you over? Would you be trapped in here or would you simply be forgotten? All these thoughts were terrifying. You felt a pair of hands enclose over yours that had came to jitter.

"It's okay Vör, there is nothing here that could possibly harm you." It only reconfirmed something for him- you were indeed Geiravör, how could you not be with shakes like that? It's how you were, having learnt your parents went out like they did, everything became a threat to you.

It felt nostalgic to have such big hands cover yours like this when your were scared, you looked into the blue eyes of man doing so. It wasn't him who usually held your hands, Odin perhaps? It was a feeling of safety but still wasn't the comfort you got from another. He was wrong though. The thing you fear most always seemed constant, even in this world, it was nothing more than yourself.

“I wish- mother was here to see you again,” he spoke quietly.

“-Frigga,” you breathed. A woman appeared next to Thor, she was older, her featured were kind, her hair; brown- she was dressed in blue with a silver breastplate. She leaned on his arm but he seemed unaware of her weight. She was looking at you, pride swimming in her eyes.

“She treated you differently to Loki and I, you were the daughter she never had,” it didn't matter what you did, Frigga would have welcomed you back with open arms.

The woman by his side instead of simply not existing like other visions, mouthed the words ‘good bye’ before fading into a light. She’s dead? You vision blurred and you looked up at him. Why were you crying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo guys psst. A certain green prince next chapter shows up next chapter  
> I hope I do him justice  
> And I hope you're all enjoying the proceedings  
> Thank you for your lovely comments and 253 kudos~  
> What do we think? Is Loki and the reader a joker and harley situation? Good or evil? Next time she sees the avengers will there be an epic battle?


	23. Loki (Odinson)?

The bed felt like it was made for you, it encased you perfectly. The pillows smelt homely, if not slightly musty from lack of use, you held the little wolf close. 

Somehow, it still felt too big. It was missing something -machine oil, a warm hug, maybe some apple pie, maybe some calming body wash and women's deodorant. Something that was reminiscent of a cat that had been your only friend, even maybe the most expensive cologne money can buy. 

Come to think of it, a lot was missing. How can you sleep now? They had pained you but you want them all back, you long for someone to call you Princess all over again, to be someone's Doll. You buried your head into a pillow. You weren't even on the same plain anymore. 

You had always told yourself not to get close, was this why? Because you knew all along you would leave? In the end you were always going to return to this place. You gritted your teeth. You wouldn't cry. Not even -one tear, fell followed by more and more. Fool's tears, you had warned yourself that fire burnt, but went ahead and touched it anyway. You would never see them again would you? And you were too scornful to say goodbye, not even to the man who had watched over you for years.

"Why do you cry my Princess?" Came a cool voice from beside, he had been quiet but it was as familiar at the room you currently resided in. How had he even gotten there? Slunk in like Sebastian once had- through your window.

You didn't want anyone seeing you crying like some weak child. You wiped your eyes on the sleeve of a night shirt you had found in your cupboard, it was big, white and lacey and smelt like you. 

You raised your head to see him sitting upon your windowsill as if he were Peter Pan with an arm propped on a knee and a hand by his chin. He held a slender build, clad in blacks, greens and golds. Those green-greys, they glimmered. His dark hair was long and tamed as it was sitting back away from his face. Such nice cheek bones- but what the hell was he doing in your window? And with such a dangerous aura that screamed power- 

"-who are you? Why are you here?" You sniffed and wiped at your face some more backing up against the headboard of the bed, scrambling away from the visitor. You could vaguely see behind him there were two moons in the sky signalling the night time. Two moons? You wanted to be home where there was only one. 

He cocked his head curiously at you, yes, his informant in the castle had said something of memory loss, but really to this extent? How could you forget even him? "I'm a friend, perhaps more so than Thor ever was to either of us." He had a dignified way in which he held himself and how he spoke, the way each word rolled from his tongue reminded you of velvet.

The sketches, the news, “Loki," -there was a mass murderer in your window. You had hit the bed head-you couldn't recede any further backwards.

His eyes which sparkled in the moonlight dimmed. "Seems you don't remember but you know what you have heard." He never wanted to be the reason why your hands shake, but he was, in more ways than one. Loki stepped regally on long legs to sit on the bed facing you.

You attempted to back further into the headboard away from the intruder, you could feel no murderous intent but the power was undeniable like the air around him was electric. He was a intimidating presence. You scrunched your eyes shut bracing for something. 

His movements were slow, eerily so, though he wasn't trying to be. The dark haired man trapped your hands as you looked away expecting all the worst things. His hands coming to cover yours.

Your eyes eased open. You had been expecting something a lot more violent. His hands fit perfectly on yours, they were kind of cold but were soothing. You looked back to those eyes, those wonderful green eyes, yes, this was the man who would do this for you. Your heart warmed as if it were still in a tower on Midgard. Strange. You thought he would smile more. Stranger still- how was someone you've been told was cruel, the only person to give you comfort in this place?

The man move a hand towards your face and you didn't flinch, didn't even blink though you knew he could kill you in a heartbeat if it were something wanted.

Loki rose a thumb to above your lip and it was just as cold has it had been before touching your hands. "-you're bleeding," he furrowed his brow, troubled by this.

"It's been doing that since Thor had me up by my throat-" you said absently relishing in the feeling of his cool hands, how had you gone from being on edge to spilling everything to this person?

"He did what?" The scowl he wore broke the moment you might have been having, and the venomous growl of his voice had you jump. "-I'm sorry, Vör-" he hung his head, maybe he really wasn't the person you remember. 

“-_____,” you corrected quietly, settling back into your skin.

He frowned at this, “you've forgotten so much, even your own name-”

“The person you knew, I'm not her,” You gave a sudden hiss and raised a hand to your forehead. “I am only ____,” you spoke through a blocked nose.

Loki swallowed his shock, Vör didn't just disappear, "The bleeding is from whatever you did to yourself to have you forget-" he pressed the back of his fingers to your forehead to attempt to soothe the hurt.

"Why would I do this to myself?" You squinted. Maybe it was this guy that did this to you. But somewhere you felt he might be right.

"I'm not sure," though he had a fair idea. "You'll know soon enough, it's coming loose." He sympathised with the pain your head must be going though. 

Memories had been coming loose for months, this wasn't news to you. Never had they hurts this bad. You didn't want to remember, you like who you were already well enough. The person you were never stole from a king either.

Loki could still read you, even now under such and odd cut of hair, "I know not all memories are good ones, and I can't promise you'll think the same as you currently do- but the past is something to be built upon." More than that, he wanted to look into your eyes and see recognition, he wanted his Vör back. And the person you were now was standing in the way.  
"-was- I a good person?" You bit your lip, you couldn't handle it if you woke up to the memories of a monstrous traitor.

The question stung a little. Loki considered his own past in this, you both used to share the same side of a coin, how had he gotten so far into the other side? If you remembered, how would you treat him then? For all he had done. 

He thought you were gone, the one who understood him most just suddenly deserted him, loneliness can warp. But he couldn't lie to you nor could he trick you into being on his side, you wouldn't be you if he did that- and he loved- his memory of you. 

"You never cared much for law, or hierarchy, but you always did what you thought was right regardless- you were a much better person than I in that regard." It came out sadder than expected, all this rage that filled him, the things he had done, you would find him disgusting wouldn't you? Still, it was how he was, he didn't regret what he had done.

You stared down at where your hands met with his. Were these sweet words for an ulterior motive. The stories you had heard of the God of mischief, were they true? How he had killed so many? How he had something to do with the attack on Manhattan? How could this man be the same you've heard so much about? 

All you saw was sadness in his eyes. There was a lingering feeling of friendship in the air around him. You were confused, the last days were taking its toll. Magic? Giants? Family? You had to be dreaming. You wished you were.

He had to admit, you didn't look well. It killed him to see you back in your old ways, to see your blood. Initially he was just going to see if you were alright, then you were crying, then he finds out Thor has been treating you badly and now the fear, he had thought you grew out of fear but you've come back full circle. 

"Geiravör, come with me and I'll keep you safe and ease your pain," He didn't know how he would keep you safe, but even if he wasn't the best person for you, he would do his best.  
A shiver ran up your spine those eyes looked into you once more, there was something threatening here but also an immediate trust you've never felt before. This man would give his life for you.

The killer who promises safety? If you were in league with him wouldn't he keep you from punishment? But don't you deserve it? Yet something that had you say; "I will." 

You knew this wasn't a good idea. You felt a bond between yourself in this man that was untouchable by the forces of good and bad. Perhaps it was your inner want for self preservation, or was it the look in his eyes?

"Is there anything you need from this place?" His voice as quiet as ever, his hands still over yours. His fingers were long and elegant as he was tall.

Your mind went straight to where the two objects were in Odin's trove. No, you didn't know why you took them in the first place. They were safer there than with you, even if your gut says otherwise. You'd rather not add insult to injury; you running away and also stealing the treasures a second time? No, it was best you went alone. "Just this guy-" you nodded to the little wolf.

"Oh yes, when we were young, I don't think you could ever sleep without Hati," there was a slight of a smile on his face thin lips. He felt like himself when he was around you. 

Loki had felt the anger for years when you just up and left him alone but looking at you now, how had he ever been? But there was something strange going on with your hair.

He knew the wolf's name where Thor had not. This man knew Vör, and she had known him better than anyone according to Thor. It was the right decision to go with him, if you remembered he would be right there for you, this man could be the key to your happiest memories that didn't include that tower in New York.

"Could you hold still a second Geiravör?" Loki requested looking over you.

You had a flashback to when Bruce Banner had asked you the very same thing. You were still on the bed, you weren't moving anywhere. You felt a cool hand through your hair and follow through lower it felt dangerous to be this close to him. It tingled where his hands traced your scalp, the ache in your frontal lobe was vanishing. 

What was he doing? You were having a moment of déjà vu. You closed your eyes to the feeling of him just running a hand through your hair when he suddenly stopped his ministrations. You opened your eyes confused only to find hair now long enough to frame your chest, and was your natural colour. You cocked your head to the side. "How-?" For a moment you saw a young, pale boy with green eyes staring back at you, he faded into the princely man in front of you.

"You'll remember the wonders of magic in time." He smirked at you. That's how it once was, you looked more like Vör now. His Princess Geiravör.

You somehow still liked how Bucky hadn't cared, but length like this was rather reminiscent. It was like the border of the two worlds you now found yourself in.

Loki stepped from the bed to the window and you found yourself looking much like Wendy, trailing after, same bed clothes and all. He extended a hand and you took it. There was no whirling as there has been with the orb, no colours, but a sudden silent shift.

 

First thing you noticed was the cold. You held Hati close to you chest and Loki brought an arm to shield you from some of the freezing. Your new found hair whipped all over in the wind. You toes were separated by snow. The world was made of frozen hues. It was like your nightmare. You huddled closer to the slight warmth that was Loki. 

Did he know how cold it was? In the distance there were ruins and further was something of a castle. Something you swore the witch owned from within a wardrobe. You didn't like this place, you didn't like it at all. "Where are we?" Your teeth chattered as you spoke you couldn't tell whether from cold of fear.

"This is Jötunheim where I rule." He said a matter of factly, he figured you might be a little impressed, perhaps you didn't know of the residence just yet. Perhaps you didn't know what he was.

Rather than impressed, you were lost by the name and the cold. "Jötunheim, where my parents were-" killed? All they knew was this white barren land as they died?

"-I'm sorry, I didn't think you knew," he confessed, he could never do right by you could he?  
You held Hati closer yet. Was this a mistake? Yet you could feel Loki was trying his best. He had no real ill intentions, but this place, it chilled you to the very core and not from its ice but it's resemblance to the terrors you had in the night. It couldn't possibly happen to earth could it?

"Come, let's get you out of the cold." Truthfully, the cold never bothered him anyway which made him the complete opposite to you who could walk on fire and not feel the burn. Who hated the cold more than most.

 

As you trudged in the snow you spoke to keep your mind from thinking on how cold it was, talking to Loki was easy as if you had known him your entire life. The topic got strange at a point. "On Earth they have stories of the Asgardians you know?"

At this Loki rose a brow. "It makes sense, there have been times they visited Midgard." He wouldn't have thought you would lower yourself to reading any material a Midgardian had to write. "Do they hold any truths?"

"-depends," you were so cold in this world and you felt comfortable enough around Loki that you let your mouth run. "Have you ever used trickery to lure a stallion into your bed?" You remember the story of Sleipnir whom he supposedly 'mothered'. 

You realised he'd become quiet, he couldn't have! You turned to look at him finally and he gave you the strangest of looks. "Did you?"

"No! I did not have intercourse with a horse! What do you think I am Vör?" He had a firm frown on, those damn humans, never respected him, even when he had shown kindness.

“Please, call me ____,” You couldn't help but laugh. "Suppose you haven't tied your genitalia to a goat and played a game of tug of war with it recently either?" 

"-I am sorry, what was that?" He looked at you wide eyed. How undignified! Those humans will rue the day! Though there was also the sound of your laughter, the feel of having you under his arm- he was torn in both fury and -happiness? Was this what this was? Happiness- he can't even recall.

 

Loki had shown you to his castle in the midst of the baron winter land. It was parts ice and stone, had there been light in this world you imagined the palace would be glimmering. 

You never saw anyone else but yourself and the God of Mischief. He said he ruled here, ruled over what? There was no one here. Your heart went out to him, it must be lonely. Seems you keep forgetting Loki's mass murdering spree, like you were in denial- how could someone so kind to you do such things? 

You followed him further into the building. Coming to something that seemed to his chambers. Were you really supposed to be in here? Had you underestimated his and Vör's relationship? No, they were brother and sister. Right?

His fully stone room held a giant bed, it had many furs upon it and on the wall opposite was a fireplace, which to you, felt counterproductive in a palace made of part ice. You shivered all over, you didn't think you could feel your feet anymore so you were grateful for its presence.

The God of Mischief looked at you apologetically. He hadn't really thought this through, well, he didn't intend to bring you here in the first place. He had the fireplace put in originally for him but he learnt to enjoy the freezing cold- now all that was left was moist firewood and no way to set fire to it. "Geiravör, do you think you can light it?" He cocked his head to the side, how much did you know?

“-_____,” you corrected absently, it must be hard to see this face after knowing it for a couple hundred years. "Light it?" Oh yeah, the fire- you had wanted to forget. "I once set fire to-" you grimace remembering you had killed something with it; a frost giant. "-I don't really know how it works." You furrowed your brow.

So you had used it in this state? "Come," he motioned towards the fire front where there lay yet another dark shaggy skin, it looked to be of a larger than life wolf. He crouched in front of it and beckoned you to do the same. 

You reluctantly followed suit, your little friend held close to you, before setting Hati down beside you. The gravity was a lot nicer than it was on Asgardian. "Now what?" 

"I am not sure truthfully, fire was your expertise-" he pondered, would it not be like his sorcery?

"Well- what do you do?" He was covered in a shroud of mystery, not even the Avengers had spoken of him in front of you.

"I just imagine what I want-" he looked off vaguely.

There came a hand on your shoulder opposite him, strange, you thought you were alone- your eyes met with another Loki's on your other side.

"And I can make it happen-" the other aside before disappearing in an instant.

You looked at him wide eyed, illusions? 

He chuckled at you expression, he loved the look of awe on you, he would do, and had done so many things to achieve it.

"I should imagine fire?" It sounded absurd, you have probably thought of fire before, you never remembered setting something aflame because of it.

"-perhaps not," he was in thought some more, if it was just that he could set things on fire himself.

 _Think of something warm, think of something that warms your heart- your soul, you have to feel the heat to emit it_. The were vague words said by someone motherly.

Suddenly Loki was reaching for your face once more, "you're bleeding more- should we stop? I'm sure there is another way of lighting it." He worried.

"N-no, I think I've got it." You closed your eyes and your hand came up over your heart, you could almost feel it's beating. 

Bruce Banner looking over his microscope remarking at how remarkable you were, Natasha Romanoff kicking your ass even if you were easily twenty times her strength, Tony Stark actually apologising for something he did and also thanking you, Steve Rogers being your hero saving you from even yourself, Clint Barton confessing to have bought you a kitten to save you from loneliness and finally James Barnes saying he needed you and asking you to go dancing with him. You neglected to remind yourself they also shipped you off here. 

Your heart warmed, you thought further, the little wolf that was forever in your company, to a dark haired boy that defended you, even a blond who wanted best for you, a mother who nurtured you, and finally a father who trusted you more than most. 

You felt the heat spread over you, tingling towards your hands. You opened your eyes to flames. Actual flames. -oh god- your hands were on fire. The flames surged with your fear. You looked to Loki in terror.

"You created it Vör, you can control it." He soothed his grey eyes promised belief in you.

"-how do you know?" The fire raged on, slowly climbing your arms but not burning your skin.

"I've seen you do it-" he hovered a hand over the flames.

"Stop! I'll burn you," you shifted back.

"-no you won't, you don't burn anything you don't want to. I watched you master it before."

You didn't know about that.

His hand came down to touch a part of your arm that was ablaze, and just like that the fire separated leaving him unscathed.

-You could control it?

"Just tell it what to do," he whispered and small upturn in his lip showed as he remembered once being punched by his own clone while he mastered his own control.

You looked to the fireplace. You wanted to warm this place up, see the beauty in the flames, you also wanted your friends but that wasn't going for happen. You balled up the remaining flames and sort of threw it at the wet logs, they caught straight away despite the dampness.

The fire roared to life crackling and spluttering away.

"I knew you could do it," he said in his low voice, you were too busy watching the fire's show to see how he was looking at you. In the warm glow he watched you, his Geiravör. 

Loki couldn't help himself, he let his unseen magic swirl around you to see what kind of lock you had on your memories.

You recoiled a bit, you head giving way to a stabbing sensation. You lifted a hand you cover your mouth and nose.

“Vör?” Loki’s heart stammered in his chest, what did he do?

Through your hand you spoke, “my name is _____,” you stated yet again.

Those greens washed over you, he could fix this. “-_____,” he tried but didn't sound convinced. He stood, offering you a hand. “Come lay down, i'll take some of that pain from you.” He promised.

Gripping at your head you found his cool hand in your other grasp, as you obediently did as you were asked and found yourself yourself amongst the furs on his bed.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded of you.

You did as the mass murdering alien asked of you, and somehow did not question it. Your teeth were gritted together, you haven't experience such a pain since you sat in Tony's memory chair.

“It's going to be okay,” he cooed. There was quiet before you felt his long refined fingers trace over your scalp, it felt like welcome ice to your raging headache. He stopped after a while, you felt cool lips against your temple and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is out Loki, he isn't showing much of himself yet~ I hope you still like him, he'll be up to his mischievous ways in no time~~  
> Im tired so there'll be mistakes  
> I'll fix it when I have time  
> Lots of rewrites next chapter so don't expect it for quite a while  
> Thank you for the support and your happy comments  
> 167 is a heap of people~ we have official overtaken my other story in kudos!!


	24. The lives of the Goddess of Wisdom

  
It felt like you walked forever in darkness before you came across any source of light. There was a profile of a room in the distance, like looking into a dolls house. As you walked it became bigger and bigger before you stood in front of it like the set of television show. 

You couldn't step into the room or around to see the back of the set. The only restriction was your own legs as they refused to walk from or into the room. You were stuck. You could make out the golden bed, the furs, it seemed rather unpersonalised. 

A small girl sat on the bed with shaking hands. She had your skin, eyes, your hair colour. She looked to have been crying. You somehow knew; she had lost it all; first her parents then her guardian, and now she had been brought to some foreign place. 

You wanted to go to her, tell her things get better because you somehow knew that they would, but your feet stayed glued to the ground. You weren't aloud to interact. 

There came a knock on the door and both your heads snapped towards it, the little one on the bed jumped and trembled further. Though neither you or her had voiced permission the door was swung open by a rather presumptuous blond and a more cautious dark haired boy with strangely pale skin, well, in comparison to the blond. They seemed both as young as the girl upon the bed.

"So you are the one that is going to be staying with us?" The blue eyed boy asked with total disregard for an 'inside voice', in this none of them realised you watching, it was like you weren't even there, it was so dark you couldn't even see yourself, only them. "-but you are so small, so weak looking." He squinted at the girl. 

You weren't sure if he couldn't tell the tiny one had been crying or simply disregarded it.

The girl didn't speak, she looked terrified of all that was happening.

"I'm sorry- my name is Loki and this is my brother Thor." The pale boy tried to be more diplomatic, you were somehow under the impression he had quite the silver tongue.

The resident of the bed stared wide eyed still shivering like a chiwawa.

"Why are you doing that?" The blond looked her up and down, scrunching up his face as if somehow the display was offensive.

"Hey, it is okay," the other place hands on top of those that shook, stilling them.  
The little lady frowned, confused, her entire body stopped jittering. All she saw was those green eyes, you watched as her breathing also normalised. In such a situation had she found a friend?

The cute scene with its tiny actors brought you a little inner peace, you wanted to stay longer to watch the outcome but your feet moved for you, without permission.

 

As you moved you came to another scene played out for you in much the same way, it was set in a castle's courtyard. There were seven children, three boys you had not witness, a girl amongst the same cast members from the last. 

The blond stood in front of them all. "I will grow up to rule all of Asgard, and on that day, I'll kill all of the frost giants in Jöhtunhiem." Thor gloated with his noble way of speaking, with his hands on either side of his hips.

With this came several children's cheers.

"Why should they have to die?" The smallest of all asked in the tiniest voice, her hands played in her lap as she sat on one of the courtyard's benches. She wasn't able to look into his eyes as she spoke.

"Because they are evil!" Claimed the second girl who wore her brown hair high in a pony's tail.

"Those monsters took my father's eye!" Roared the blond with his blue eyes aflame.

"Didn't they kill your family Vör?" Came an inquisitive pair of green eyes against pale skin; it was little Loki.

"Yeah- don't they give you night terrors?" Verified a boy with dark eyes also supporting a ponytail in his equally dark hair.

The little one named Vör looked down out of embarrassment from the mention of her nightmares. "Doesn't mean I want them dead." She spoke to the shoes on her feet, dangling from the bench that was too big for her to sit upon.

"What is wrong with you?" Thor asked and the girl jumped and the sudden yelling. "If it had been my parents slain, I would want revenge!" He announced valiantly. "But you never knew your parents did you? How could you really know?"

Vör bit her lip.

"Thor! Have you no empathy?!" Scowled Loki sitting by the girl who talks to her shoes.

"How can you be so weak Vör?" Piped up the brunette girl disregarding anything the green eyed boy had said, this didn't seem to be the first time the dark haired boy had been treated like a ghost.

You were beginning to see two groups from the side. Two little outcasts. You felt this conversation was had more than once, if not a hundred times. The argument seemed to fade in and out as you walked furthier into darkness, the voices ageing, the words becoming larger the reasons becoming just as so.

You came to walk on and a dark room came into view, there was surrounding candles and a mystical smell of incense. The outcasts- a little older now sat upon a large rounded table along with an older woman in green robes and the same shade eyes.

The lady spoke finally, in a whimsical tone, "while the others pick up the sword you come to me?"

"We would like to learn from you Eir," came the silver tongue of the boy with high cheekbones. “Our mother has magic, we want to learn also.”

"So you desire knowledge of arcane?" She acted kind of melodramatic, perfectly fruity from where you stood. The woman with greying hair looked to Vör, true enough, she was no warrior but at least her hands now stood steady. She was growing. "You, Vör; what is it you want to learn?"

"I want to control fire." She spoke to her shoes once more, unable to look the woman in the eye.

"What would you want the destructive power of fire for?" The theatrical woman went wide eyed, what kind of monster wanted to learn fire?

"It isn't destructive!" Vör actually rose her voice and sounded just like the defiant child she was, Loki from her side looked surprised at her. "It's warm and it's pretty, I want to share it with everyone I meet, so no one should ever go cold!" It seemed like she realised she was talking as loud as she was and started playing with her hands. She hated the cold.

Deep smile lines showed on Eir's face, if there was a reason to teach anyone sorcery that was it.

You walked on as the room faded.

 

Vör was alone in a big stone room with smouldering clothes and hair, though it was her shoes that seemed to have taken most of the beating. Scorch marks littered the stone flooring and walls. 

A boy with dark hair appeared in the room's open window. 

"How are you so good at it Loki?" The girl kicked off the stupid broken shoes from her feet.

He gave a short smile didn't give an answer instead asking; "how many pairs of foot coverings is that now?"

"I have lost count," the little girl looked put out.

"Perhaps you should give up in wearing foot wear?" The boy arched a brow.

Vör gave a girly giggle, imagine what the others would think. "I like that idea."

There was a broad smile on her face and it caught into the fair skinned boy's in turn. He slipped from the window and walked towards the burnt girl. "Hold still Geiravör."

She froze immediately always ready for the worst- "what is it?" She edged out. It could be any kind of creepy crawly.

He didn't reply, instead he ran his fingers through her hair and instead of singed short hair it fell to her shoulders once more.

Vör made a happy noise, "how did you do that?!" Her eyes sparkled looking upon Loki.

His smile deepened like only she could make it do. He gave a shrug, "I must be a genius."

“My beautiful children.” The woman appeared in the doorway dressed in blue, she had a kindness about her face, you recognised her as Frigga, the same who appeared next to Thor outside your bedroom. “though I am glad you are both growing, I suggest you come with me to the feast hall before Thor and your father eat everything,”

The two kids laughed at this following their mother away from your view.

 

“He is acting strangely.” Vör huffed. She was older now on the cusp of her teens- whatever age that was for an Asgardian. She was in the company of Frigga once more in a library fit for gods. It disappointed you that rather than a with sparkle in her eye as you would, she took this room much for granted.

“He is at that age my dear,” Frigga looked over her book at Vör.

“People keep saying that, but I don't understand why Loki is avoiding me!” She rested her forehead on the desk. Probably wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't her only friend. “He is being a bacraut,” she was muffled by the table but it didn't stop Frigga from hearing.

“My daughter!” She spoke in shock, “what language is this?!”

You snickered on the sideline, and was proud that Frigga could keep a straight face, it meant arsehole or dickface- not that Geiravör knew that at the time.

“All-father named a servant that after she dropped the roast hog.” Vör defended and your heart sank. That's right, this girl had servants, had them from so young that she didn't treat them as fairly as she should. There were aspects you liked about Vör and in others- she was spoilt, she was- a princess.

“Best not repeat that,” Frigga looked a little mortified, what children was she raising? If only she knew, what kind of tongue Vör’s would grow to be.

 

Next you saw of Geiravör she was dressed in white, a dress that flowed with golden intricacies about it. She wasn't much older, she was running, the hems of her dress did well not to be set alight.

“Would you stop?!” She implored. “Why do you act like this?!” The person she was yelling at wasn't in sights. Her run slowed, she wasn't an athlete like the blond of her brothers.

Where she had stopped running was outside of the castle, in the moonlight, by a stone path. In frustration, the girl punched the side of the white stone castle leaving scorch marks- she hadn't mastered controlling the flames as yet, they ran rampant with her emotions.

She sunk down, her back to the wall.  
He appeared on the edge of the light, he was older than her by a few years. He was already handsome in his youth, he was dressed in green and golds, an armour that was not meant for battle, his dark hair was now the length of his chin.

“-you're crying,” he frowned uncomprehending.

“No- I'm not,” she turned away spitefully. Yes she was.

“I do not know what I have done to upset you,” he confessed coming closer to the girl.

You scowled on the sidelines, doesn't know? He had been ignoring his sister for months, going on years- isolating himself, there was no warning either, one day he was there, next it was an impenetrable wall of ice around him.

Though, with your eyes, you could see he was a teen now. He no longer wanted to be around his family. Or was there something more to it? Loki was never upfront with what he was feeling. 

“You were supposed to be my best friend,” she accused, she didn't fit in with many or rather- any.

“-friend,” he breathed, his expression unreadable. He came closer still until he sat next to her. Maybe this was enough for him? “I didn't realise I was hurting you Vör. I apologise.” He spoke but didn't invite her into his feelings on the matter.

Uninvited, Geiravör rested her head on his shoulder. The boy froze. “Don't leave me again.” Her voice was small.

“Never.” He whispered, “It's just you and I against the nine realms,” he promised.

 

You walked on for a long time seeing glimmers of this 'Vör's' life. She mastered fire after a while and did give up on shoes all together. You heard people speak of her cruelly, she because a 'sympathiser' to the frost giants.

What they didn't understand was it wasn't the giants but war that she hated even then such thoughts were taboo amongst her age group. Young and old looked at her strangely but Loki, Frigga and Odin became her constant support. 

She came to draw different things, things she found in books, people she met. Her hands didn't shake anymore so she found she enjoyed doing things with them, crafting armor to protect people became a hobby.

 

“What are you doing out here?” Came his usual velvet, silvery voice, he was growing into it, he was leaving his early teens behind. He was clad in one of her earlier attempts at amory and still wore it with pride.

She watched over the night’s garden via the balcony away from the ball dressed in something white, flowing and fine, Frigga had dressed her in. “Nothing,” she replied in muse. You knew it wasn't nothing, she was drowning in thought -of her first love. Love from the very beginning was a sharp and barbed thing.

“-Fandral again?” Loki never let emotion slip, he was far too careful for that.

Vör gave a somber smile, Fandral was made of charm, her young heart couldn't be leashed. “He is dancing with Ursula of Thrudheim,” Geiravör sighed. “She’s one of them, and I'm, -this.” She looked down at her grubby feet. She knew all the whispers that were about her- Fandral was charming and flirtatious, but he never truly looked twice at her.

You had no idea what she saw in the blond. You scowled at her in the dark, all she had she took for granted, her eyes were wandering when all she could ever want was right in front of her- there was much to dislike about Vör, you and her could never be the same.

“We are ‘this’,” Loki referred to himself, “it will alway be this way, have you forgotten? Its you and me against the nine realms,” he stepped closer to Geiravör. “If you weren't my sister-” he dropped his sentence and the hands he spoke with, his eyes dark in the night.

“-you're right,” she breathed, and you knew she disliked not being like Thor. 

You gladly weren't like Thor.

“Come, Mother would like to show off how beautiful you are- in that dress,” Loki extended a hand, “may I have you for this dance?”

 

When she was old enough she was finally assigned her job and was inducted into the Valkyrie in her diary she wrote of how that was 'exactly what she had not wanted to do' but Eir, once being of the squadron had put in the recommendation for her; saying they need more people like Vör on the team. ‘ _When you receive this spear it will be at your side until the day you fall. It will always seek you out, that's what it means to be a Valkyrie_.’ While walking through Vör's time as a Valkyrie you came to know what it was to have a blood bath. It was a horrible way to live.

Trudged on in the darkness. You came to a great green hill with a sheer drop on one side, the girl you now knew intimately as Geiravör kneeled, she was dressed in flowing white and a gleaming gold breastplate you'd seen her hammer it herself. 

A beast's heavy head was in her lap. It almost looked like an oversized moose with its antlers and shaggy brown coat, but as its body went on fur became scales, hooves were claws and giant wings were unfurled at its sides. The beast was in pain, more than that, it was dying. There were tears in Vör's eyes as she patted the creature's snout. 

She repeated a phrase over. "I am sorry," the laboured breathing of the creature was becoming faint. You knew then what had happened, Vör had killed the poor creature. Finally it gave a slow rolling growl and it closed its eyes forever. She stood after a while and you noticed two men waiting for her.

"You slugh that foul beast well!" Praised who you know to be Thor with his hair of golden hair and the scruff of his beard. He was proud of his little sister, she was a better Valkyrie than he had thought her to be. 

You had seen him talk her into becoming of the squadron, you and her could both see that he wanted the best for Vör, wanted people to know her as a fierce warrior, for her to be well liked. Yes, he wanted what was best for her, but he didn't seem to realise just what that was.

"I see no foul beast here," Geiravör stated coldly, flames from her hands flared with her anger. Their interactions seemed to go on like this frequently. It wasn't their fault, they were just two very different people and she had come to build quite the temper.

"If you want to speak of beasts perhaps you should look to the village who robbed her of her child." You were on her side for this one, though you found yourself disagreeing on a great many things. Perhaps she could be nicer to Thor though, explain it calmly, but her temper was like fire, especially concerning her blondest brother.

"Oh I-" he played with the large hammer in his hand, he never knew what to say to Vör. He never truly meant harm.

Loki out a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." That brother always did know what to say.

The Valkyrie way was getting to Vör, you could tell because these scenes were getting to you as well.

 

It was almost half a step when you found the day she broke. You watched the ground you walked upon, it was a polished stone. Perfect bare footprints; they were a sloppy crimson. 

When you looked up she stood in front of Odin's throne speaking with the man himself. She was drenched in blood and the gods know what, a great spear in her hand that dripped red on her like a toothbrush did toothpaste. "I can't do this anymore All Father." She cried. 

None of the blood was indeed hers, you'd seen her in so many situations but not once had you seen her even hurt. "-I, killed them all!" Fires started to crackle at her feet.

Odin stood from his throne, this wasn't something that happened often. "My dear little Vör." He took regal steps forward undeterred by the flames. He buried a hand in her hair despite the blood. "If the job of a Valkyrie was taking this much of a toll on you why did you not come to me earlier?" A pair of comforting arms settled around her not caring for the crimson that would get on his robes.

You had thought when she finally came forward about it she might disappoint everyone, but Odin was fair to her, you almost didn't want to see what happens when Thor finds out.

 

"You have dishonoured my father!" His voice boomed from the courtyard. He had tried so hard to change people's minds about you, he wanted you to have friends, go to giant feasts, be his sister in battle. Instead you spat it all back in his face. Geiravör was nothing more than a hinderance to him- a weak Asgardian.

You watched as Vör took up the bench in the royal courtyard once more, it looked as if she had drooped into becoming one with the seat. Wanting to appease Thor was the reason why she had stayed with the Valkyrie for so long. "I couldn't do it anymore Brother-" she yelled back.

But he didn't let her explain-"I am no brother to you Geiravör-" he hissed back words he would forever regret. “You are, and always will be; weak,”

With his venomous words you could almost feel the sting upon your own skin. Vör turned her head away from Thor. She had tried too, it's all she could do. They were two different people- you both saw that now, there was no changing that.

Vör hadn't moved from that stone bench, Thor had left her to her thoughts.

"Geiravör?" Both Vör's and your heads snapped to attention hearing that silky voice.

"Loki?" Your heart soared- you liked that one, quiet, reserved; always up to a trick, true to his word, he never was a part from her unless he had to. 

In your own opinion, Geiravör had not done much to deserve his kindness- nor did she much acknowledge it. Her heart obviously didn't shift as yours did.

Vör had called for him in the dark as she had sat there in thought for hours.

"Allow me to help with the darkness," faintly you could see him close his eyes he let out a breath and soon small, floating, lights filled the area bathing the garden in a azure glow. The lights bobbed around like glowing jellyfish.

"They're beautiful." Vör complimented observing a single floating light.

"I had been looking everywhere for you," came his silky voice once more as he took a seat beside her. This wasn't entirely true- he had seen Vör earlier, she looked to not want to be disturbed. He figured he would give her some time and return with a new magic to maybe make her smiled again. There was a moment a silence as you watched the grounded stars. 

Vör clasped her hands around empty air, not to be out done by Loki, there was a glow between her fingers. Her hands cracked to release a small fire-bird, it came to sore amongst Loki’s glowing lights.

Loki broke the silence the two fell into watching the bird. "Geiravör- what was your reason for leaving the Valkyrie?" He asked, it was an inquisitive question, there was no disappointment in him.

The girl heaved a sigh. Her break in concentration made the small pheonix fall from the sky.

"You don't have to-" he started to recant.

"No- Loki, you're a friend, probably the only one I could ever trust to talk to."

There came a sparkle in his eye.

Vör was far too deep to notice. "I left because- I didn't know who I was fighting last battle. I was only told they were our enemy- not that I don't trust Odin, these people, they never did anything to me personally."

Loki nodded, did she not like orders? He knew that feeling.

But that wasn't it- "I killed them all Loki, slaughtered them like animals," Vör looked to her hands, they were shaking again for the first time in forever. She could see the blood there- she had bathed, scrubbed herself raw. It was still there.

"But- that was your job, you and the other Valkyrie, you were told to- it wasn't your fault." He cooed.

"You don't understand." She a great grimace fell her features, "I liked it- I enjoyed it, I wanted to." She raised a hand to her mouth, the thrill or the kill, the swing of the spear. It was a drug, it was euphoria right up until the last soldier falls and then it all comes crashing down.

She was the reason why you lost control at times. She was the reason you attacked Bucky in the warehouse and the same that made you break Natasha Romanoff’s ribs. You hated her.

Loki was stunned for a moment- was that her secret the entire time? She hated war- hated the killing, the death, only because she loved it? The gore and bloodlust. It just didn't seem like the Vör he knew. "Hey-" he got a hold of both of her hands, "You're Asgardian- we are born to battle, born to enjoy it." His brows drew together.

You were an Asgardian. You were born of bloodlust. 

Then she wanted no part of it either- she wanted to make up for what she has done. You could feel her resolution, finally something to admire about Geiravör.

 

As you strode more through her life the whispers of others became hard to ignore. To give up the honour of being on of the Valkyrie was unheard of, it made Vör less than scum. 

But she had Odin, Frigga, Loki and a reluctant Thor- that is all she ever needed, but it was never enough for Vör. She had to prove herself. And that's when she started doing it. It reached out to her in dreams with invisible tendrils, the same the puppeted her through the castle that night. It scared you to watch her, with your face, vacant as she walked the halls- like she had no control, she almost glided, clad in white to Odin's treasure room in the midst of a dark night. 

The guards didn't know what to do, she was known to be Odin's daughter, technically making her a sort of princess, but she was also known to be madder than Sheogorath's jammies. They let her in not wanting to anger their king. 

She would gaze into an orb, the same that had called to her, and it would in turn gaze back with a brilliant golden eye, it would whisper things, show her visions when she foresaw a battle she placed her hand upon it and it took her away. Vör negotiated peace treaties, stopped discord, became known in all other realms as the Goddess of Wisdom, for when it couldn't be negotiated, she took the leaders of the warring parties and ended it with swift punishment,. 

She often lamented these actions but weighed that the deaths of two was better than hundreds, she would never confess again she enjoyed to give out such punishment. She was cruel but she was fair in her punishments.

 

You wondered how your feet hadn't yet come to hurt, you had walked for entire ages. You came to a moment that was almost as dark was the world surrounding. Geiravör was sneaking back to her room from the treasure room for what seemed the hundredth time when she bumped almost head first into Odin and his white beard.

"Evening Geiravör." He greeted mysteriously. He usually only used the full name when she was in trouble.

"Yes, evening All Father- I was just-"

"Coming back from meeting the Orb of Agamotto again were we?" He asked all knowingly.

She hung her head, of course he would find out, it was his treasure room. "I just can't handle it All Father- for more people to be killed in the same why my parents did- when they simply don't have to-" in the way she had done to hundreds herself.

You understood but, she had to know her family worried for her, what if she went on one of theses soul searching journeys and never came back? Didn't she care about them?

He held up a hand. "I'll say this once Geiravör," he stated simply. "I trust in your judgement."

Vör and yourself did a slight double take. Was that really it? Odin was okay with letting her enter battlefields alone?

But he continued. "Though, you must keep in mind- you can't save everyone little Vör, you have to know when you have been beaten. Not all futures are indeed changeable." 

She was met with a wise look from her father.

"Be ever careful, my Goddess of Wisdom." He gave a wink before continuing along down the hall leaving you and Vör whom was resembling you more and more every day.

 

Vör was in the courtyard once again, when she was here you usually saw her with a book, pastels or something to sew but instead she approached a bench where a man with longer dark hair, sat. She was in a good mood today, she took bubbly steps, balancing on the stone bench before coming down to rest her head in the lap of the man who hadn't even noticed her presence. 

"Vör!" Loki started, only seeing her when she was peering up at him from his lap.

"Loki, are you okay?" There was a frown on her face.

You'd seen how Loki looked at her, seemed cruel she never addressed it. You wondered what she would do about it.

There came a sigh from Loki, Vör was strategic in her placement. He couldn't get up and stalk away without pushing her off and that was something he would never do.

“Let me in Loki,” she stared up at him and hated the wall he was always building between himself and the people surrounding.

“I-” he seemed to come up with a half hearted excuse but looked down at that stubborn expression. "Thor- he'll be running this all one day but he is an idiot, he lacks the wisdom for a true ruler." His brows drew together, there was something dark about Loki in this moment. It was something you almost feared.

"That's not for us to decide Loki," If she felt the fear too she hid it well. "We're here for him aren't we? The All Father too, there is no discounting him." She smiled up at him. "Worry not for the future but for here and now." Indeed Thor was a great fool now, you still had hope that he might learn in the future.

"But when has that great oaf listened to anyone but himself?" Loki said coldly.

She probably knew as well as you did. Those were the words of jealousy speaking for him.

"He might learn in time Loki, don't worry of him!" You repeated. "He has all those who love him but we have each other don't we?" She was met with green eyes.

"Indeed," something interesting warmed in his features looking down on the girl in his lap. "-I in the meantime though, would rather not call home where he rules." He chuckled and meant it as a joke, but you couldn't help but notice something maybe, sinister? Lurking. "You and I could roam the stars- we could come to rule elsewhere, Midgard even."

"Why would you bother with something so ignorant and violent as those apes?" She scoffed.

You felt like you had received a punch in the face. Those were your people she just insulted. You searched her memories over. That's right- that's what the Asgardians had taught her. Such an inferior race. That's not what you believed- how could you be one in the same? The more you saw, the more you disliked about the _princess_. What if she was this thief? She did like that orb. You wouldn't let it happen, you wouldn't be this ignorant person. Your thoughts were halted.

"You're right my Princess," A smile came to him as if this were a normal conversation, just a little joke. It was common to laugh at the human race at times. What did he need of popularity when he had Vör? He ran his long fingers through her hair.

You forgot you were so mad, you had a heart melting moment; disregarding the racist remark- this is what family was, wasn't it? but your feet were leading you away once more. No, you wouldn't be her anymore, this family, if they would have you, you would not take for granted.

 

There was something at the end, just waiting there, glowing gold among the darkness. There was no Vör in sight, it was just you. As you came closer you realised it to be the Orb of Agamotto sitting upon its pedestal- it was watching as if it knew you. It drew you in as you realised you weren't walking anymore instead you felt as if you were being dragged.

The pull didn't stop until you were right in front of it. Still, there was no one else but you. For the first time, you, yourself looked into the orb; it looked back- finally it showed you something, something that changed the course of Vör's future. 

You greeted with a man, taller than tall, blue as ice and with eyes as crimson as their own bloodlust. He chilled you to the core. How could a man so large move so stealthily? The giant came to a door you recognised as the treasure room's. Oh, no. You realise what was happening. The destroyer was powering up but was was not doing so quick enough. You wanted to enter this one more than ever but you body wouldn't obey. 

The creature snagged the Tablet of Life and Time before touching the eye of agamotto and disappearing forever. But what happened next- made you feel sick to your stomach. There was a man upon a throne, he was even bigger than the last, the largest man you had seen, his skin was blue and traced with scares and tribal patterns. 

The tablet was given to someone with knowledge. A blackish liquid was created, devised from the writings upon the tablet, and poured into the mouth of the creature who upon his throne. The aticipation gnawed at you. His skin- was becoming more vibrantly blue, in fact, it glowed so. The mans eyes reopened to show a shade of impossible red. A chant broke out amongst the few. It took you a moment to realise, it was a name; Laufey. The leader of the frost giants of Jötunheim. His skin rippled with his muscle mass, he looked to have grown even taller.

"Our immortal leader," one came to bow in front of the giant amongst giants. Immortal. That just couldn't be so! But whatever that blackish liquid was had something to do with the tablet of life and time- he might very well be immortal, or worse. 

Time skipped more images flashed before your eyes, they got hold of a glowing, blue-stoned sceptre and with it, they froze worlds. You could even look away as millions were murdered, as heroes fell before it, the screaming and finally and most sickening of all; the laughter of the now near omnipotent leader of the frost giants. No one could stop it, even Odin would fall to this- monster.

You came back to yourself so-to-speak. You came face to face with Vör. Was she looking at you? Directly? She looked pained, saddened. You knew what she was thinking. Take the objects before they could be stolen, this was suppose to be the safest place in the nine realms, but if you were to hide them away, keep on the move and tell no one- after all who could she trust now? 

Why not ask for help? Your thoughts intervened but she didn't listen to them, Odin? Loki even? You looked at Gieravör, no, that's not who she was, she was arrogant. She knew best- The goddess of wisdom, that's what they named her. Would she leave Loki to fend for himself? Leave Frigga and Odin less a child without so much of a note?

You watched her pick up the tablet, holding it securely and graced a hand upon the orb. There was a rainbow light that surrounded you and you were taken away. She left all that she knew and all those she loved in that panic of seeing all that would happen. In the arrogance that she could protect them better than anyone.

 

The Sergeant was an idiot, how had Vör been stuck with someone so inferior as a superior? You had watched her form over time, she had spent her time away from the Midgardians- on Midgard. Geiravör remembered all the times they didn't negotiate peace, all the times she had removed the heads of two warring countries or provinces. Hell, they fought each other over something as mere as the pigment in their skin or the genitalia they were born with.

Vör wanted no part and so kept to herself, living amongst the nature of Midgard, which to her, was the most bearable part of this planet, she said so, with no one to talk to be herself. That's when the war started. It was one of the worst she'd seen, worse still, because she was a woman they wouldn't let her fight. She couldn't give away her Asgardian blood because of what she protected but still found plight in the war. At least, from what the eye of agamotto has shown her of it.

 

Seeing Peggy Carter in her prime with your own eyes, there was no doubt why Steve loved her, she had dark features and pale skin with ruby lips. 

“You want me to get you into the one hundred and seventh,” her sculpted brows rose. If she had that ability, she would get herself into it- the front lines is where she longed to be instead of this mascot they used her as.

She was addressing a very bedraggled looking Geiravör who really was living all natural, save for some rags on her body.  
“If that is your front lines- I heard that was something you might be able to accomplish,” from a glowing golden eyeball of knowledge. Vör’s accent seemed alien to you when compared to Peggy’s.

“Look, I know how you feel, we all want to help but-”

Vör replied with a sigh to save her from being let down gently by some ape.

You scowled at how rude she was being to the wonderful, awe inspiring Peggy Carter.

“Can we step out the back of this establishment for a moment?” She requested tiredly. ‘This establishment’ was a British pub that was giving all sorts of disapproving looks Vör’s way.

Carter frowned but was a part of the science division for a reason, that reason being- curiousity.

The back alley was happily empty save for an unmanned delivery truck.

“Why are we here?” Peggy asked slowly realising she had followed a homeless woman to a back alley.

“You need a reason to get me into your army,” one handed, Geiravör picked up the back of the truck. “Here is your reason,” she said simply.

Vör was a badass, your eye sparkled, or at least, she was pretending to be one. But there was no doubt the woman needed an attitude adjustment.

 

“State your name!” The colonel was a wary looking man who seemed to have seen more than his fair share of war. You knew the look in his eye Geiravör had it to.

“Baker sir! Paul Baker,” he kept his helmet down.

“My god, they'll let anyone in won't they?” He was mentally measuring him against the two next to soldiers who stood shoulders taller than him.

“With all due respect sir, the recruitment officers saw my worth sir.” The words were icy, it was bad enough he had to cut his hair for this whole facade.

“Respect?” The colonel zeroed in on Baker. “What respect is talking back? How does that make you worth anything?”

“Let me face your best man, I'll show you I'm worthy,” your brows rose at the audacity, why didn't he just keep his head down? He had said he wanted to help but truthfully- he wanted to prove himself. Vör would never change.

“You will lose and when you do, you'll be on the next ship back, and I never want to see you with my own eyes ever again,” At this the colonel smirked but inwards he was frowning at Peggy who picked this one, she should know better than to send a kid to war. “Sergeant Barnes,” he barked, “show the boy some manners,” he instructed.

“No hard feelings-” he extended a hand, the man was dressed in his proper green uniform to meet his appointed fire team for the first time. His eyes were the same shining colour as the gloomy, Italian sky. He had a charismatic, curled smile.

Baker didn't take the hand, you wanted to kick him yourself, did he know- that was James Buchanan Barnes, before Hydra broke him? You would embrace the man, take him under your wing and protect him for all he was worth. “I'll try not to hurt you,” he spoke like ice.

Bucky kept up his smile with a shrug, he wasn't going to let the new kid get him down.

“Have at it,” the colonel almost didn't want to watch.

Barnes at the time, only knew basic fisticuffs, and Baker only knew magic and spear. Still, Paul wasn't human- he saw the punches before they were made. He dodged them easily, making a spectacle even. He was a self righteous tit.

When Baker did decide to fight back, Sergeant James Barnes was embarrassed in front of his first fire team and colonel, left knee deep in the Italian mud. You wanted to hide your head in your hands, what was wrong with him?! The human race had faults but their lives deserved some respect.

 

This moment lead to many of the same, Bucky was right when he had said Baker was arrogant, he wasn't just that, he was a cocky shit. They were then assigned the only two in a tent together which was the best Peggy could do for baker. She told him James came highly rated from a friend, Baker wanted to know the credentials of this friend.

 

You remembered the next scene as Bucky had told it. The mines took out the first in the convoy, baker rushed on ahead thinking he could actually save somebody but was wrong. Instead his fire team perished and his sergeant was to be shot.

“You stand in the way of the future,” the captain announce with a heavy accent, a gun in his hand pointed to his sergeant's head.

You looked at Paul expectantly, he had clenched fists as the two he’d saved from the first car’s wreck, were already lying dead beside his sergeant. You wanted to yell at him to do it, to save Bucky, you knew the feeling all too well. 

He wanted to save everyone, he didn't want anyone to die. He didn't want to have to pick sides without knowing both stories.

The gun’s barrel rested on Bucky’s temple.

Baker, lost faith in his cause, grabbing up the first nazi he could get his hands on. Broke their neck and snatched up their gun in one swift movement, they were dead and their gun was his, before the body hit the ground. “Let him go,” he ground out, wondering why he joined this war in the the first place. Wondering why he would put one ape’s live in front of another's.

 

The next part happened much the same as Bucky told it as well, Baker offered up himself to testing and so they shared a laboratory in Hydra’s compound.

“You weren't supposed to follow me here Sergeant,” Baker hissed, his shoulder more than paining him at this point. “What would be the point in my killing someone for you, if you were to die here?”

“I didn't ask for you to save me.” He jousted just as icily.

He hated you, what was Baker doing?

You didn't want Bucky to hate you.

“Thank you by the way.” Bucky added.

“Is my pack safe Sergeant Barnes? I'm going to need it when I get out of this,” Baker trusted Bucky with the orb of agamotto and the tablet. He was beginning to think he was feeling more for Bucky than just dislike.

“You can't even call me Bucky once? The outcome looks bleak and you still can't do it.”

“Sergeant Barnes, is it safe?” Baker tried again.

“Your ‘heirlooms’ are in good hands- the men know what you did for them, they'll protect it with their lives.”

Paul was at ease with this, “you humans are good for something I guess.”

“Baker, you're straggling,” Bucky jogged to the back of the broken and wounded convoy to address Paul at the very back. 

“I’m fine.” The smallest soldier replied with ice. The walk back to Italy was long enough save putting up with the sergeant also.

You and Bucky remained unconvinced. His skin had lost all warmth and had become an ashen colour, the circle around his eyes were dark. You knew why- because there was a bullet still resting in that shoulder of his, and vör didn't heal in the same we you did.

“We can put you on one of the tanks if this is too much-” James was becoming accustomed to the other’s inability for kindness.

You felt your heart beat double.

“I don't need your help,” Baker stated crushing your dreams. He had to feel it too- anything with a heart only had to look at those greys-

“Come on, you're the only one I have left-” Barnes put a comradely arm around him.

Baker gave a hiss, pulling away clutching at his shoulder.

“What's wrong with your arm?!” He was frozen, dread coming over him. “What can I do?” He fluttered about. Going for the hem of his shirt.

Baker slapped him away. “You go ask that soldier with the amputated leg what you can do for him, I'm not some weak human scum,” Paul spoke through gritted teeth. He also lied on his papers meaning he could not remove his shirt- even for a bullet in his shoulder. He was far too stubborn for that.

James did not press the matter, nor did he leave him alone for the rest of the walk.

 

Paul made a frustrated sound. His arm was bound in a sling, the only human he trusted to put it there was the Carter woman. He reloaded in one handed difficulty, and then proceeded to fire again, there was no kick back for him but he couldn't aim the bloody thing. They still had a week before they got to be shipped to Britain.

“You're not aiming properly,” Barnes skulked over, he was still pretty pissed off at Baker after being so reckless with the bullet wound.

“Guns are for cowards anyway,” Paul stated to the sniper. Though, you could recall Thor saying the same about magic when Vör was younger.

Bucky came up behind him and rested his hands over the other’s.

“W-what are you doing?” Paul tried desperately to keep composure. You could almost feel the warmth of sergeant Bucky Barnes behind you.

“Relax, just, keep the target in between the sights, and ease the trigger.”  
Perfect shot.

Was it you- or did Bucky linger longer than was necessary, in fact, what part of that was necessary in teaching someone to shoot a handgun?

 

It looked weird. Baker was a lot smaller in comparison to Barnes, stranger that he was slinged up and yet the shorter had to carry the sergeant on his back. This is the outcome of a human challenging an Asgardian to a drinking competition in a bar after being inaugurated into the howling commandos.

The sergeant had something to prove, there wasn't a lot Baker wasn't good, he had thought he could at least beat him at this- he was wrong.

“You know what?” Bucky slurred, which was very unbecoming of the charming sergeant that you knew. “You'd be pretty as a girl- maybe even prettier than Carter,” he drawled further.

There was no hiding that, Baker, who looked down on the entire human race as nothing but toys.. was beet red.

The next place you walked was freezing and blindingly white.

Baker didn't like the way being a soldier smelt. In the cold of Austria, he could feel the dirty and sweat literally living on him. 

He was doing good in the howling commandos, the more he learnt of the nazi regime the less he felt about killing a few Hydra, they were monsters and the weapons they wielded were derived from an Asgardian treasure. They had chosen their side- and he had chosen his.

He expended a slight of his pent up magic, alone, facing a waterfall to heat it to a more bearable temperature so that steam bellowed off its surface in the snowy tundra surrounding. Paul missed warmth- he discarded all clothing to bathe including the filthy chest wrappings. He wasn't likely to ever wash as the other men did, he had to grasp the opportunities when he came across them.

He dove under the surface- resurfacing to find a rather gobsmacked pair of grey eyes staring back.

“W-anted to see if you were okay,” he bumbled, his voice higher in pitch.

“As you can see I am fine-” came a statement in salt, before he ducked beneath the water so only his head was seen.

Bucky seemed to be calculating some exceedingly complex problems in his head. Well, baker did refuse to wash with the rest, you had your own tent now.

“Well- turn around!” Came a yell.

You've never seen James Buchanan Barnes shift so quickly.

Paul used a little more magic to dry himself, putting his clothes back on, Barnes already knew the extent of his powers it meant nothing to Baker that he now know he had magic. “This changes nothing I hope your know,” Paul spoke with his usual venom.

“N-nothing.” Barnes agreed.

 

“What the fuck are you doing Sergeant Barnes?!” He cried.

“There is no way you're sleeping in a tent alone with all those soldiers around,” he hiss in a low voice.

“I trust those idiots- you're the one acting weird.” James had already offered up his share of beans to Paul, tidied for him and packed up after dinner.

“I'm not going to let it happen- so move over.” He was just as stubborn as you when he picked his fights.

You watched Baker give in, he didn't even put up much of a fight, he didn't act like it, but the soft spot he held for his sergeant was vast indeed.

 

Baker woke up the next morning in sergeant Barnes’ arms. And then he died. Barnes fell from a freight train in the alps. The howling commandos then made their last stand against hydra and Steve Rogers also fell. Paul or Geiravör or whoever they were, was empty, they watched the crimson of Hydra soak into the white, bleak snow. Even that didn't bring joy. 

They threw the spear that always seeked them out, over the ridge- they no longer wanted to kill, all the anger they felt from the loss of Barnes had burnt up. Had bleed out into the snow. Now there was nothing to feel anymore.

They had deserted their only family, their closest friend also, and someone they may have even loved had died. They hated it. The soldier pulled the eye of agamotto from the sack that forever resided on their back.

“Why me?” They choked in desperation, the golden ink swirled, the eye looked back.

_Why you?_

It spoke with lips directly into the mind. “You called to me in my dreams, you made me follow you-”

_Did you have to follow?_

“No-” they shivered, “it just hurts, it all hurts, but I have to protect you.” You knew what would happen if they did not.

_Do you want to forget?_

To forget? This weight, this hurt, it could be forgotten? Sweet release? “Please,” they begged.

_Would you trade sanity for your peace?_

“Sanity?” They sniffed, why would they care for that? According to all of Asgard they never owned that in the first place. “Take it, I have no need for it.”

There in the snow, Geiravör and Paul Baker died, replaced by Marin who lived amongst the light elves of Alfhiem and was an apprentice potion brewer who in time remembered, spiralling to become Lilly of Nidavellir an inventor amongst dwarves and finally after all the years of hiding, after almost a hundred of them, you were you. You were an author who wrote the stories of your past selves. You were the human who called the Avengers family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp- there you have your answer how geiravor and Baker can be one in the same and neither are our reader because she is you~~ and you're no princess- or maybe you could be?  
> I'll admit- I'm a little bit of a princess kek  
> We have two very different love stories on our hands, will they accept our reader for who she is~~?  
> Loki deserves to be loved :,,,,,,,,)  
> Bucky needs all sorts of hugs :,,,,,,)  
> This eye of agamotto dude/lady ~~ who are they I wonder o;  
> thank you for reading~ and for your support and for your 289 kudos of love~~~~~


	25. No place like home

You woke slowly, your brain was lethargic and your movements were sloth like. The pillow you had nestled into smelt vaguely of a smouldering fireplace and magic, but that's strange- that couldn't be so could it? And how was the arcane something you could recognise as a scent? You could feel it too, all around you. You gave a stretch and noticed the other who sharing the massive bed covered in various warm furs.

He had been awake for some time only watching you dream.

His green eyes were on yours. You were used to seeing him smile, seeing him wearing your armours, seeing him come up with new illusions just to make you smile. He was the brother Gieravör overlooked, the one she never deserved. "Loki-"

Yes, those were eyes of recognition, there was a glow in his heart but a drop in his stomach.

You then realised what he must have done. "Thank you- that memory lock Agamotto gave me must have been a doozy,” you touched your head as if to see if it was still on your shoulders. He had unlocked it for you.

“Y-you're most welcome my princess,” Loki looked as if he had stumbled. Thank you? Doozy? Since when did you have manners? And just what is a doozy?

You saw the stun in his expression. Sadly- learning to be thankful didn't come to you until the avengers. "My brother- what happened to you?” Your brows drew together. His cheeks had lost mirth, the lights in his eyes seem to dwindle in comparison to what they were in your dreams. You touched his cheek, you felt a lingering of fondness, one Gieravör never felt, never even considered.

"You left and I had no one." It had came out more scornful than he intended, no, he didn't want you leave again. "I am sorry I did not mean-"

"It's okay-" your eyes fell, as did your hand. Vör had promised it would just be her and him, always. Then she up and left without explanation, you hated her for it- but she was also you. "You hurt so many people Loki, was it because of me?" You bit at your lip.

Was it because of you? His brother was loved by so many, he had coveted it- even when you were by his side. He wanted to rule and to be loved by his people but when Thor rose to the occasion, he had fell. And he hated them all for it. Hated Midgard loving his brother just as much.

He was always filled with this rage, was it because of what he was? The very abomination you feared most? Was it because his father never loved him like he did Thor or even you? Was it a need for power? "So much has made me what I am," he looked to the ceiling. He couldn't deny your hand.

The was silence, so much has happened in the space of one night, if felt like yesterday was a lifetime ago or at least four of them. You weren't going to give up on Loki, he was always there for you, you should have been there for him, instead you were busy filling some need to prove yourself. You were a deserter. "How did you come to rule over Jötunhiem?" You were remembering parts of your dreams, your past and how it fits into the current.

"My father was the chief before me," he said vaguely. He had to tell you somehow, it seemed cruel, even for him, not to. Maybe he wanted you to hate him, fear him even, it would justify his cause that much more.

"Father- was-" you weren't getting it. Your head still swimming in information.

"I'm a frost giant Vör." He confessed looking straight at you with resolute eyes. It was almost a challenge to detest him, as all else did him when they knew the truth.

You froze for a moment. A frost giant? Your parents died by their hand in- this place. But he was your brother- wasn't he? Thor had said he had no biological brother. Could this really be?

As you hadn't said a word, and to seal the deal he took his colder form.

His great crimson eyes bore into you from centimeters away, the tribal scarring surrounded his features, but, they were still his features. That mouth you knew to have a beautiful smile, those eyes that worried for you, the handsome cheekbones. The face you grew up with.

You had heard stories of what he had done, but then he hadn't had you, the person you knew couldn't have possibly done those things -could you stop him from doing so again?

He hid such a painful expression, your heart pulled in your chest. “This means nothing.”

Loki jumped as he felt a warmth envelope him. He froze like a rock, you were never so openly affectionate- with anyone. He formed back as fast as he could to save you the frostbite, but it was too late. "You know how frostbite is to Asgardians." It was the natural way of things their battle was of ice and fire, there was no one without the other and forever they would war.

You felt some frost biting at your neck, and some where your fingers rested in his hair. “It's okay," you assured, you felt a sting behind your eyes. He waited alone all this time and he discovered he was a frost giant alone. You tucked his shoulder under your chin, he still took you in last night not knowing what you had done in the last hundred years.

You gritted your teeth imaging how the princess within you would have reacted, had you never became who you were now. Would she have disowned him? Gieravör had left such a mess for you to clean up.

"Okay?" He asked incredulously, his voice a whisper in your ear. "Do you even know how many I have murdered? Do you know the remorse I do not feel?"

You pulled away to look at him. Thor had told you he had changed, you still didn't believe it, but how couldn't you, when you had changed so much also? "And do you know how many people I have?" You couldn't even begin count. “Though, I'm sorry Loki-” you looked over him, the man who danced with you at every ball so you didn't have to sit, isolated, by yourself. “If you come for Midgard again, you will have to face me.”

It confirmed it for him, you no longer shared the same side of the coin. You were promising to stop him, instead of proclaiming absolute hatred? It felt more of a challenge in a game than anything to him. "I do not think that you can," he there was a flirtatiousness to the mischievous remark.

Your eyes narrowed, “you have no idea,” your tone taking a venomous turn.

A dark smirk took him over and he caught your eyes.

You rattled your brain, tearing from that daring gaze of his. In your muddled thoughts you had gone over something important, you looked to your blackening hand- setting it aflame against the cold that you still felt in it while still very much in thought. You raised your hand to your neck to warm that frostbite also. "You say you are the son of the last chief. Just who was that?" You ask vaguely, as if not still sharing a bed with a villain you had challenged for the fate of the world.

"Laufey, I killed him myself." He said nonchalantly.

A shiver ran up your spine, both for his admission at killing his own flesh, blood and for Laufey’s name. But it made no difference if Laufey was already dead. The wheel were already in motion. "-Loki, I think we'd better go back to Asgard," you voice came to tremble, your fires shifted erratically from growing to shrinking and back again.

He scared you? His heart gave a brutal squeeze, of course you feared him, what else would he expect? But he was the villain of this story and he would act accordingly. "No, I don't want to," he said lazily. You willingly came with him, and he would keep you here- his Geiravör, you might learn to love him or hate him but you would be his, forever.

"You don't understand Loki!" Panic was welling. You stood from the bed, you had to do something, you had to move. You placed a hand on your chin and came to pace.

The pacing- he hated the pacing most. He never felt more useless than he did when you paced like that, he could feel the warmth already, flames were licking at the stone flooring from your feet. When you were most panicked you lost control of the fire and it sometimes consumed you. He was still the villain here. "What do I not understand?" He asked pretending to be just as uncaring.

"-w-were there frost giants that refused to follow you in the take over?" Your pacing became more erratic but you refused to let your hands shake as they willed to do.

He frowned at this, he didn't see how it was important, were you worried about an attack on the ice castle? "There were a few in the mountains, I tried to have them hunted down at first. But they would be fools to attack here, they are too far out numbered."

You pretended like that wasn't a sickening thought.

"But I gave up and let them live as outcastes." Something of a grin came over his face at that, letting them live was probably crueller than putting them out of their misery.

You almost scowled at him for that.

He again pretended he was unaffected by your thoughts.

"They are the ones after the Tablet of Life and Time. Oh god- they could be using it on Laufey right now." It was your decision to have left them behind- if they were stolen, it was your fault. “H-have you seen a scepter with a blue stone in it?”

You had drawn it yourself, the death of the Avengers- the death of Odin, the end of worlds, it would also be your fault. The orb still whispered to you in your dreams, visions of what was to come- or were they only nightmares? How can you tell anymore?

"Excuse me?" His voice was turning cold bleaching the fun and mischief from it. “The sceptre is one once given to me, it now resides on Midgard- what has it got to do with anything?”

"The reason I left- I was hiding it from the frost giants, they are going to use the formula written on the tablet of life and time to turn him into a god," you explained hurriedly.

“Laufey is dead, I killed him myself,” he reiterated.

“Death does not stop life and time. They will use it to revive him.”

Instead of reclining and watching you pace as he had been doing he sat up at this, something furious in his eye. "You left me on Asgard alone because you wanted to stop them reviving someone that had not yet died?" His words were cold. Thor might have chucked it up to your mentality but Loki knew better, you couldn't have left him for any stupider reason, you left him for nothing, he was nothing to you. Suffice to say Laufey might even be alive today if perhap you hadn't left him in the first place.

You stopped to look at him, his features were warped by something evil in that moment, behind the facade you knew you had wounded him. Geiravör had left him. You had left him. "There are no words that I can say to fix what I have done to you Loki, but if the tablet is in their hands they aren't just resurrecting him, when he returns he will a god among gods. He will end us all using that sceptre." _Those who sit above in shadow._ You clenched your hands tight, you aren't a trembling little girl, you aren't a shaky monster among humans. You wouldn't let yourself tremble. "He will take the sceptre from the humans like taking a rattle from a baby- he will freeze entire planes and rule over the corpses."

"And you just left? You didn't come to me? You didn't even see Odin." He squinted. You hadn't even trusted him enough to tell him where you were going?

You bit your lip. "I watched it unfold, every death, every second, unable to look away or blink. She- I -I wanted to stop it. I panicked." You felt your eyes watering, this was all your stupid fault, you wanted so badly to blame Vör, but all you could blame was yourself. He was right, you should have gone to them. Perhaps you were as mad as Thor would say. Your hands had caught fire up to your elbows. You could never do anything right.

Loki threw his evil pretenses to the wind, there was no way he'd let you cry. He stood tall across from you and covered your burning hands with his.

“-I-I’ll burn you,” you tried to take your hand from his.

“It means nothing,” he raised your hand to his lips has the fire's went out on their own.

Means nothing? You left him, your heart hurt, did he think so little of himself? Did Geiravör teach him that? His hands were left blistered but his lips were safe. “I'm so sorry Loki,” for a lot more than he knew.

Sorry? -why didn't he feel anger at you? He couldn't muster even a sharp word in your direction, even after all this time.

You felt safety in being so close to the murderer, even laufey couldn't reach you here. But you couldn't stay here forever, and make up for all your lost time like you wished. "I'm not saying you have to stay, but you need to take me back there." You whispered, you need to be there to watch over the Tablet. You were going to leave him again. You were no better than the princess you once were.

You were watching your foot fires, so you weren't able to see your words affect on Loki. He didn't want to let you go again. He was evil, he was cruel, you were supposed to be his prisoner- Damn it. Loki didn't want to let you go. He squeezed your hands tighter. Why did he fall to your every whim? "-Of course, but only because I refuse to have my father come back and take my reign from me,” he pulled away to turn his face from you. Though freezing Midgard might be an entertaining idea, he would be the one to do it not Laufey.

Your heart dimmed, did he care that much for ruling? You quietly picked Hati from the bed, feeling no less than a traitor.

Loki somberly offered his hand.

 

You felt the discord right away as you entered the golden halls with a silent suddenness that went unnoticed, the throne room was in utter chaos. At the head of it sat the All Father upon his shining throne Hugin and Munin must have been scouring the lands because he sat alone in the ornate chair, there were guards milling around.

Odin held his forehead in his hand in a general face-palm. How had this happened?

As you weren't noticed straight away you looked to your side and found Loki to be gone, your heart dwindled for a moment. You somehow still wanted to have him by your side; crooked, twisted and all. Guess that would be too much to ask? For him to have to come back here, for him to stay by you after all you had done to hurt him.

You padded forward, pushing past men in golden armor. At least you weren't a thief, not really, even if you weren't all that proud of what you had done. The road to hell wasn’t only paved with good intention, but also stupidity. You would make up for this.

"Geiravör?" A crease in his brow became very noticeable.

He was angry? They must have notice your absence. You came to bow your head, he had trusted your judgement and you had failed him. "All Father, I remember what I have done." You couldn't even look him in the eye, how could you? You deserted them all, just as you had Loki. Now Frigga was dead and Loki was- After the silence you finally did look up. He was- furious, more so than you had ever seen him.

"Not only once, but twice you have betrayed me Geiravör." Though he shouted the words he felt he was on the verge of showing tears. "Seize her!" He wanted this over so he could be alone for a while. All three of his children had disobeyed him at one time or another. Thor had came back from being reprimanded, better than before, but after Loki- well, you weren't really his daughter either now were you?

"What have I done to upset you so Father?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing, Odin was a reasonable man- a slight escapade wouldn't call for this. If you had never left with Loki, you'd not know what you do, for months or longer. He wasn't even going to ask your reasoning? Wasn't even going to listen to your warnings?

The golden men moved with his words closing in slowly.

You knew this formation, you met men of Shield who had done just the same. The truth would not be heard through bars.

-And now you were denying it. He stood from his throne as his men surrounded you, storming closer to you. "We find you out of your room and both the Tablet of Life and Time and Orb of Agamotto gone, what and I suppose to think Geiravör?"

You stomach lurched as if you were strapped to a bumpy roller coaster. You felt bile at your throat. "They're- gone." It came out as a whisper. Your face paled. Was there an informant in the castle? Your body came to quake all over. You remembered. Each and every death, the cold -the laughter.

Odin looked over you with concerned eyes, you really were as mad as the others had said. Look at you like that, how had he never seen, you were sick- you need help, perhaps then you will tell where you hid them.

He was giving you that condescending look. No, not him too. They would never take you seriously, you backed up before your behind met with a golden soldier. Laufey, he was out there- he might even be alive right now. They couldn't take you, Loki and yourself were the only ones to know the evil afoot. They would never listen to the raven haired man and he couldn't face this thing alone.

Without prompt the metal soldier from behind put an arm around your waist, capturing you, pulling you to inline with his own body.

You saw Odin's face drop from in front of you. "Traitor!" He roared and you jumped. But he didn't seem to be yelling at you, but behind.

"Hello Father," came a velvet voice just by your ear, it was smooth and as mischievous as its owner- almost dangerously so.

Loki. Your heart brimmed with warmth. He had hidden as one of the guards to keep an eye on you. Your Loki.

"You are with him are you not Geiravör?" His nostrils flared in anger and was that disgust?

You felt you were betraying him, however you had convince yourself you were doing just the opposite, he had to know, he had to send a search party to the mountains of Jötunhiem. "I didn't take your treasures-"

"Liar!" His voice rang out in the throne room, you expect him to believe you after being seen with _him._ It might as well be a confession to your criminal acts.

"It is imperative you listen!"

But your words fell on deaf ears as the All Father turned from you. "Neither of them may leave this room!" He spoke as if you weren't even there.

The guards acted accordingly.

As did Loki.

 

"Thank you brother but -not here-" is all that came from your mouth. You couldn't be here, of all places. You couldn't drag them further into this- isn't Thor still here? Wouldn't he just bring you back to Odin? What in hell is Loki thinking?

"You said that Laufey is after my sceptre-" he started.

"Well it isn't here!" You cut him off. There was no way. You pulled yourself from the grip he still had you in, to look at him. He had taken it upon himself to take a more human appearance in a long dark coat and a green scarf that was almost the length of the coat.

He had done something to your clothes in the same nature, it was long white and flowing, you believe you had seen Vör -you- wear such a thing on Asgard but usually adorned with gleaming armour. Loki didn't know what covert was, it look as if you were about to attend an opera in the middle of the day.

All of this was still so confusing to you. Little Hati still took up space on your hand, he was yours want he? Made by your mother?

"Geiravör, these apes have my sceptre locked away," Loki said coldly. He could often place Asgardian items left here on earth, but this time- it felt like there was a blocking.

“-” you were about to correct him on your name but faltered, how could you tell him- you were no longer her? He cared so much for a woman you once were, whom you despised.

You instead came to scowl at him for the 'apes' remark. "Not here." You repeated. Damn it, why didn't you read more into gamma science? You could find where they stored it.

"Why not?" Loki was confused, did you know these people personally? He knew you had inhabited Midgard- for- well he wasn't quite sure, where had you been through the ages? You couldn't possibly know them- of _all_ the billions of filthy Neanderthals. The thought of you having allied with the heroes sickened him slightly.

"They're my-" you closed your mouth. Family-? But were they anymore? They had just given you away like that. "Just not them." You frowned.

"I hate this idea more than you," he almost sneered, "there is no other way," they were the ones who had it last, but he didn't feel it was here anymore.

You ran a stressed hand through your hair forgetting how long it was now. "Why couldn't you have just kept track of your toys Loki?" You bit back wanting to blame someone for this anguish.

"I would have Princess, but it thought it more entertaining to see what these inferior creatures would make of it," a sparkle of mischief shone in his eye, why did you care? You couldn't have possibly grown fond of the humans. "It's not as if I could have tracked it from my imprisonment." He shrugged finally.

Imprisonment? Yes, he had set the Chitauri on New York, between the childhood you remember and the man who now stood before you, you were lost. You think you enjoyed the children's book version of your Loki more than what he has turned into right now. “Sorry-” you felt like you had to apologise for his imprisonment for some reason.

“You can't take credit for my actions Vör,” perhaps in another life you were right there beside him in asgard’s prison.

You gave a huff. “You're right- they're probably the only chance we've got-” you discreetly capture his now bandaged, hand for support.

Loki piqued a brow at you. You were a lot warmer of a person than he remembered, somewhat more dependant as well. He remembered you often closed people out to work alone. On the other hand he had forgotten what another’s fingers had felt like in his before today. Even him being what he was didn't seem to deter you, like he thought it would have.

“There is no use standing out here,” was there? You felt like someone who was early for a party. You gazed upon the door of the Avengers' tower from within the midday sunlight cast upon the adjacent park. Jarvis' cameras wouldn't quite reach here, Barton might see you had he been watching out for you. But he wouldn't be, you were in Asgard to them. The news wouldn't have travelled so fast.

Loki saw your concerned eyes when looking at the building. "-well, aren't you going to knock?" He promoted like a parent with a child.

You furrowed your brow at him and found your courage. You wouldn't have to involve them all that much, though it might be awkward. All you had to do was explain the situation, have them give you the sceptre and hide it away like you had with the orb and tablet for all this time. Laufey wouldn't do much damage without the sceptre- you didn't think. It was and in and out job. You took off at a march with the raven in tow, but found yourself slowing as your conviction flaked.

Loki trailed after regretting even coming here, you were right, had he looked after his toys he would have to deal with these- _Avengers._

You stopped in front of the glass doors as if you had hit an invisible wall. You bit your lip. Damn it, why couldn't you do this? It was the same panicked feeling you had gained when you left your apartment for the first time to save your cat. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding onto.

Loki pretended he didn't just squeeze your hand.

"Ms. _____?" Came the console's voice.

You jumped feet off the ground like a scared cat. Jesus. Yes, _____, that was your name- felt like a lifetime since you heard it. You cleared your throat awkwardly. "Ah, hello Jarvis- it's been a while-" closer to an eternity.

"It's been two days Miss." The computer replied.

Two? You'd only seen one moon- or maybe two at the same time and then Jötunhiem looked to have none. Did times run different? "Could I be let in?" You asked him.

"I'm sorry Miss, your privileges have been revoked." He sounded to be apologetic.

Figures- though it had only been two days, revoked already? What were you to do? Would they have given your room away also? You don't know what you would do if you found out Sam had gotten it in your absence, the rivalry you held for him was still there. Were you so replaceable? You looked to where Loki stood rather close behind you.

He had a dirty look on his face like he was going to murder poor Jarvis for getting in his way.

"Hey- it's not his fault-" you looked back to the glass door and were met with a pair of deep blue eyes, not stern, not worried, but relieved. He held a bow on his back- so he had been watching, even without knowing that you had escaped Asgard, without even expecting you.

At his permission and without seeing your companion the doors rolled back. They couldn't open fast enough because when they did he glommed onto you like a mother duck.

"Barton?" You snuggled into him not realising just how much you missed him. How much you missed any of them.

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he lost your hand from his.

Clint had no words, how could he apologise enough for letting you go? Screw frost giants, he would protect you from anything, he had promised to watch over you. He had seen you for the briefest moment before you were whisked away, he had been too late before he'd come to his own conclusion. They were Avengers damn it! If they couldn't protect just one of their friends what use were they?

The display made Loki feel ill. This is what you were doing on earth all this time? He made a sort of disgusted noise.

The Hawk's eyes snapped open, alerted to the mischievous god's presence. He stepped back, pulled his bow from his back and loaded an arrow all in one swift movement, putting his body between your’s and Loki's. "What are you doing here?" He growled aiming for the trickster's head.

Loki came to look bored by the whole situation, but then again, what was he doing here? Was he to protect you? What a strange feeling- no, this was just a bit of fun, he wanted to see how it all played out. To see if the world freezes over or not- not to mention he wanted to keep his reign. He wasn't looking for excuses or anything. He hadn't wanted to question it either, that would mean coming to terms with himself- that he was actually trying to help save the universe; for you. "It is not of your concern little bird." He replied nonchalantly.

Clint pulled the bowstring back further threateningly.

You counter this by placing yourself between the two holding your hands up defensively. Loki really wasn't helping his own case was he?

Barton gave a frown, why was he here? With you? He felt a slight stab of the heart. You weren't on his side were you? Perhaps he didn't know his little _____, as well as he thought he had. Come to think of it- you were all but unrecognisable. You looked- like an Asgardian.

"Please Barton, I have an explanation. Come on, it's me, you know me better than anyone," you pleaded, looking at the sudden way he became to perceive you. Loki did have quite the reputation among the Avengers.

Not only did you know these people.. but they knew you ‘better than anyone’- Loki thought he was the one who knew you better than anyone. He squinted at the man you were shielding him from.

Clint thought he knew you- but not that accent, nor the nobility and the hair or in a dress that didn't have floral patterns. Thor had said your were his sister, a real princess of Asgard? Tony had got it right? What did this mean for himself? Had you outgrown him? After all, you must be at least a couple hundred years his senior. His mood dampened further at the thought. -Still, despite all this, sue him, he trusted you. "As you wish Geiravör," the word came out alien-like he felt the slight need to bow to your Royalty.

You flinched at the name, you hated her, you hated who you were. "-______," you replied stubbornly.

He caught your eye, maybe you were still the probational Avenger he knew you to be.

Loki studied you over.

You made a semi turn as Barton, against his better judgement, lowered his arrow.

You reach for Loki’s hand once more, with Hati in the other, “please behave yourself brother,” you requested quietly, “these people took me in and protected me- they're .. family,” you caught Clint’s blue eyes with your own.

It was like you shot the raven through with Hawkeye's arrow, though his face made no hint at this. This was your family? What was he to you then?

His fingers itched for the other man's throat- jealousy? For a dirty human? He should kill them all- then you would only have him! But, the way you looked on to that blond man, it was almost how you looked to Hati. Like you thought of your dead parents- He became defeated, he was rendered useless, he couldn't lift a finger to the hawk in that moment, just as much as he couldn't harm your small stuffed wolf. What were you doing to him? In all of this he gave a lazy nod of promise to 'behave'.

 

It was an awkward elevator ride, it hung in the air like a dead giraffe than the last time Loki had been this close to Barton he had him under mind control and had him kill so many people, none of this was known to you. The trickster stayed close to you, you could tell from Barton's face he wasn't enjoying anything of this experience. "Hey- we will be out of your hair when we can," you touched his upper arm.

"You're leaving again?" He turned to you wide eyed, he hated how you had said 'we' it had his skin crawl all over- you were coupling yourself with a mass murderer intent on the genocide of the entire human race.

"I'll explain it when we get to Banner's lab-" you would hide away with the sceptre like last time because you it had been going so well until Thor showed up, Loki would go back to Jötunheim and rule as he wanted- it would be okay wouldn't? Though it did seem kind of like a small bandaid on a gushing wound but you didn't want to see your dreams and drawings realise their fruition. This would have to do.

 

Six pairs of eyes were on you like lasers upon entering the lab, figures Jarvis would be a taddle-tail, you were under the impression you might have more time to think about it than to be pushed under the boat straight away. Banner's lab was as you remembered it, the chrome, the glass, the smell of disinfectant. You had wanted to snuggle up to all of them as you saw them, but the accusing looks- these were the people that wanted to jail you, weren't they? To them you were a thief.

You looked to you feet draped by the white dress- this strange material didn't burn did it? That's why this dress was yours. You avoided the glass flooring, careful not to crack it.

-this would be business, you'll never see them again and they'll have their way. You'd be gone. You buried these feelings because this was more important than that.

"Loki?" Thor's deep voice rung out. "-Geiravör, you little traitor!" He drew the same conclusion as the all father. His face was pulled by disgust, like your very existence had become something that made him sick.

You furrowed your brow, you weren't ready for this. You looked to Bucky for confidence but all you saw were Winter's scornful look. Steve? He was avoiding you, staring just passed you to where Loki had slunk in like a stray cat. Romanoff was doing that thing she does when receiving a mission and cutting herself off to a complete deadpan. You had brought Stark’s worst fear in his tower- he was- glaring at you. Banner was doing purposely slow, calming breaths, thinking happy thoughts, though he wouldn't relay that they were Romanoff related.

How had you become so distance from them? They were the ones who deserted you!

Thor stepped forward, Mjolnir in hand, he intended to hang you by the ceiling again, reprimand you like an animal.

"Stop brother!" You commanded as much an Asgardian would. In the pain of the situation you felt an anger building- your eyes stung the memory of betrayal all too fresh you were having trouble shovelling it down. "You will hear me out," you ordered, flames licked at the metal flooring beneath your feet.

A sneer came to Stark's lips, so this is the monster you are? -standing there next to Loki. Spewing flames like a dragon.

Brother? Thor came to a halt. "What do you remember?" He asked suspiciously.

"I remember you turned to hitting things with your hammer before you knew anything of the whole story," you said coldly, dense bastard; should never have taken you to the clouds. Geiravör felt disdain for him in every way.

Thor flinched, no- he was different now, things have changed- he was a leader. At least, he was learning to be one.

Loki stifled a chuckle from behind but quieted down quickly when he received disdainful looks from around the room. This is what he remember most from the two of you in one room.

Who even was that guy? James had already decided on hating him, especially how close he stood by your side. What did he care anyway? He folded his arms sulkily.

Cap's heart went out to Buck, for the two days you were gone his mood only got fouler and it seemed he blamed you for the way he felt or at least his Winter parts did. He, himself, was on the fence about this whole ordeal. You were back, unscathed- he was happy with that, but the company you kept- well... He wasn't impressed. There was no trusting you now was there?

Thor slowly put Mjolnir to the floor. He wanted to be a better ruler- a better brother. "I will hear you out," he said finally.

He- what? Thor? Your face scrunched in mass confusion. The man who promised the demise of all frost giants? The man who seeked discord just to punch it in the face with his fist? You looked unconvinced, but if this were to be your only chance- you should seize it.

“Gieravör-” you stumbled with all the voices in your head. “ _I,_ was arrogant, I was so set on being a hero, that I often forgot those closest to me. So when the eye of Agamotto showed me that the frost giants were going to steal the tablet of life and time and use it to make their chief Laufey into a god, a destroyer of worlds, I thought I was the only one who could stop it and so took the tablet- whisked it away when I should have come to you, Loki and father for help.” You lemented the life you threw away for arrogance. “Because of that, I've hid the eye and the tablet for all these years,” you confessed.

“But Laufey is dead,” Thor’s face scrunched, the threat you ran away for is dead.

“All the more reason for them to act, the formula will revive him from death and turn him near omnipotent.” You swallowed, “the orb and tablet are already taken from father's vault.” Your stomach flopped. “All he needs now is the sceptre Loki used on manhattan- and he’ll end everything. I want to take it and hide it as I had the tablet.”

“Who is to say that you didn't take them yourself _Geiravör_?” Tony had his arms folded over his glowing reactor.

You blanched at the name once more. “_____,” you quietly corrected wondering if anyone had heard you.

“Because she spent last night between my sheets, she was nowhere near the trove when they were taken,” Loki purred with a smirk.

Stark's face pulled, “you two are technically brother and sister right? That’s-”

“Not like that!” You gave Loki a reprimanding glance and begged yourself from blushing.

“What reason do we have to believe you Loki? Of all people?” Romanoff interjected thinking only of the chitauri, avoiding your imagine in particular.

You gave a huff. “If I had stolen them, why the hell would I come right back here? Last time I saw any of you, you each decided on unrightfully imprisoning me for treason.” Nat flinched, you didn't mean to be so harsh. “-sorry,” you apologised meekly. “I know what it looked like- maybe I'd of done the same-” no, you were sure you wouldn't have.

“Well, if you needed the sceptre for your world domination plans- you know we would be the quickest to retrieve it for you,” Banner spoke with an every calm that hid something much more.

“That would mean going though you guys to get it-” you felt sick at the idea of face them, “I-I couldn't.”

Loki less-than discreetly rolled his eyes.

“I only need the sceptre to hide it away from Laufey.” You repeated it as if it made a difference.

“You're going to keep it on the move like you did with the orb and tablet?” Steve looked concerned, hadn't you given enough for this cause?

“It worked for one hundred years didn't it? -give or take a couple..” you were doing it again weren't you? Trying to save the world alone? You weren't trying to be a hero here, you were trying mop up this mess you were drowning in.

“My sister, much time has passed, but I do remember you as a rather poor liar.” Thor was listening along with your story, his eyes softening to you.

Tony had to give him that, you were a piss poor actor or- was that an act too?

“I believe myself and the other avengers able enough to deal with you with and Loki, if your claim is the sceptre,” he didn't sugar coat, “but if what you say is true, we should act swiftly- Laufey newly revived with the chitauri sceptre in hand is a far greater threat than the both of you.”

You didn't know whether or not to thank Thor, you fluttered your eyes in bewilderment. “When did you become the voice of reason brother?”

“When did you learn to apologise sister?” The only time he could think of was when you'd killed an undeserving dragon. Something about you Thor believed in, that same something about you made him proud.

You were about to jest and call Thor out for being a nerf herder when you were slammed into with the smell of honeyed mead.

Steve was about to go for his shield that was under the bench in front of him until he realised thor’s intentions were not to hurt you.

You were being hugged by a big blond beard.

Thor felt overwhelming pride brimming in his chest, more so than he had felt when you joined the Valkyrie. If truth be told, you had given everything up to save the nine realms.

He hugs people now? More than that, he was squeezing the life from you, had he forgotten how weak you were in comparison? You couldn't even climb a flight of stairs on Asgard without wanting to pass out.

"My dear sister, when this is over, I'll talk to Odin about having your imprisonment revoked." He grinned in your hair. He didn't have the capacity to find your action stupid; only noble.

"I don't know about that Thor, Father looked pretty angry when I left," you said with remorse into his burly chest. Were hugs always this comforting? You couldn't recount ever feeling welcome in Thor’s arms. Suppose it was wrong to think you and Loki were the only ones to change within the last hundred years.

Barton was finding this scene very odd to watch unfold, shouldn't he be the one hugging you in pride? He probably would believe just about anything you had to say. He was unfortunately close to this job, his senses were off.

"This doesn't explain why he is still here," came Winter's cold voice broke the family scene. He spoke for just about all the Avengers. Hydra had spoke a small amount of Loki to him, but he was never a target, never truly relevant.

When you were released you looked to the darkened grey eyes of James Barnes and then to where Loki leaned nonchalantly against a bench checking his nails for imperfection. "If it weren't for Loki, who knows if I would have remembered in time? If it weren't for him I would still be in my room and no one would have known what happened to the treasures- or what is to come."

Why were you looking at him like that? Was that affection? It left a bad taste in winter’s mouth. He went on to ignore what you had said, "Why are you here?" Bucky demanded from the direct source; the mischievous god.

That question again- Loki didn't like it. He was not helping, it was just for fun- not really for you, he reiterated all his thoughts over again finding it a bit of a tangled mess- letting none show he settled with, "Well, after this trivial business is done I was planning on stealing Geiravör away," then came a devious smirk, he was the story's villain after all- of course it would end with him stealing the princess away. -The look that half-metal human gave him with those words, why, he should do away with him for such insolence.

"I don't think you could if you tried," you chuckled at him.

You took him too lightly, how do you keep forgetting what he has done, had he felt like it, he could kill all here. He revelled still, quietly, in your laughter.

"She has got you there brother," Thor laughed heartily at that. With you here there was a chance at getting Loki back in the way he was.

“You take me too lightly dear sister.” What was wrong with these people? Loki seethed still. Yet the others in the room still regarded him scornfully as they should. When you smiled at him- he couldn't bring himself to glower.

Winter planned on many cruel things, he wouldn't be satiated until he saw that god's end. James had to hold himself back.

Out of all the people in the room you found yourself looking to Bucky again, why was he still looking at you like that? He was your Sergeant- has he forgotten? Didn't he know the entire time? It was too obvious for him not to realise.

Quiet Bruce had been sitting back and listening to it all unfold, standing by Romanoff. He could feel the other guy lurking in the face of Loki but during your explanation he got easier and easier to control. He would like to believe your story- even if it did involve yet another apocalypse he would have to try and stop.

To Bruce, it looked like Loki was going to become a necessary evil- since he found him with you, Thor didn't look to want to take him back to Asgard. What was he trying to achieve? He couldn't overlook the fact that Thor was still Loki's brother, in one way or another- was he planning on you being able to 'fix' him? Wasn't that delusional? The man killed hundreds of people.

Watching the three of you now though, you and Thor both joking with Loki looking like an antisocial teenager in the center- you looked like a family. Who knows what could happen? With Loki this close it's not as if he can do much harm, the Hulk would destroy him before he could do anything. The big guy had taken a liking to you especially- he might even leave Loki alive for you.

"I have the gamma signature for the sceptre saved- I search for it regularly," the scientist’s face fell a bit as everyone started turning to look at him. "-I haven't seen it," it had been missing since they found that Hydra had infiltrated Shield.

"Then how are we supposed to find it before Laufey does?" You tried to mask the panic in you voice. This was supposed to be an in and out job, Loki said the the avengers had it . But- shield had become corrupt hadn't they? That could only mean- Hydra.

"We either wait for a fluctuation or we search out Hydra camps," Stark replied distantly still unimpressed about harbouring a murderer under his roof, but if he wanted to see any of this unfold- it was going to have to be this way. He needed to speak to Thor about what a short leash was because he didn't exactly trust the two of you around each other.

Your skin crawled with the mention of Hydra.

Loki saw you stiffen, just what was this Hydra to scare you so?

"So that's it?" You I felt a frown pull at your lips.

"For now- it's all we can do," Bruce said in a soothing voice.

You looked troubled.

"Hey- the earth is a lot bigger place than you seem to think it is, we have the technology, we will find it before the frost giants do." Steve put his captain America voice on.

 

As much as you wanted it to feel kind of normal while you stayed here- it wouldn't be for long and you would be on your way again. Your room in the tower was untouched. Which was homelier to you? Your royal suite in the castle amongst the stars? Or this? That was Bucky's couch, Barton's chair, the blanket Tony replaced after destroying the first- that space at the end of the bed was reserved for Cap when he came to see you, the patch between the books where Natasha taught you to fight, that stack of books in particular were all given to you by Banner.

You felt awkward in this space now. You sank slowly into a position sitting on the bed. No, this wouldn't be a normal stay. How could things change so dramatically in a few days? Maybe it is better if things were awkward between these people- you had already decided to leave again. Even if you didn't want to... This mess was your fault. You would be the one to patch it up.

After the meeting Loki was whisked away by Thor- you could only guess how much everyone trusted you about now, you know? Showing up with enemy number one. Hell, they were probably playing along only to figure out your end game, which in their minds was along the lines of world domination.

They wanted the two of you split up. And then you stood there and they all just- passed you. Didn't say a word- you called out to Bucky. He hadn't even blinked.

You leaned to one side until your torso hit the mattress as well. You look to the fraying threads of little Hati- he stayed by your side through the entire event. Was he yours or Vör's? You remember your life as if it were someone else's. Then there was Private Paul Baker, Marin amongst the elves, Lily amongst the dwarfs and finally _____.

There was a knock at your suite's door. You sniffed for a moment. Why was he here? Really you just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts. "Come in," you decided after a while. It could be important. Or it could be that you miss how things were, and you had a dash of hope that it might return that way. The tall blond with his wide shoulders took up most of the doorway with a tray.

You bit your lip. Nobody brought you food anymore; it was like the beginning.

"I noticed you weren't down for dinner-" Steve began. He never thought he would get to do this again. You had been locked away in here since the meeting, he had a gnawing feeling you didn't want to see any of them after what had happened.

How long had you been swimming in these strange memories? He was right the sun was getting real low. You cleared your throat. "-didn't think I should-" go out on your own. Thought it best to stay in your cell.

Rogers pulled a saddened face, you were speaking stiffly around him again. "Even Loki came to eat-" though he was forced by Thor because he was then easier to keep an eye on.

"-leave it... get to it later." You mumbled to your bedsheets. It wasn't important then. You finally lifted your head to see those piercing blue eyes only to droop. You pressed your lips together- there felt like there was a giant invisible wedge between the two of you.

"I can't, Banner and Clint told me to make sure you took your supplements." He placed the tray beside him as he came to sit in his spot by the end of your bed.

Your poker face faltered. They were thinking of you? Perhaps the wedge was smaller than you thought.

Cap sat there for a moment thinking of what to say. Why weren't you looking at him again?

There was a shift in the bed and finally you smelt apple pie like a giant cloud surrounding you, and felt the captain's large arms all around.

"-We all regret that we gave you up to Thor." He clenched his jaw. His little guy- it was only two days but they were two days they thought they would never be seeing you again. Thought of all the ways they would punish treason against a god. Thought of the mistake they made. "We discussed it, I-I thought you would be safer up there."

You felt your eyes well. Thought you were safer? "-trying to protect me?" There were many times you had been taught before meeting them, that humans were inferior- that you had a duty to protect them as they were so weak. Then you learnt; well, you learnt differently- because you met a sergeant. Stupid humans- bigger hearts than you could comprehend.

"That frost giant, it scared even us. We didn't think we could defend you." He held you closer. It was stupid, what was the point of his shield of he couldn't protect even the smallest Avenger? He touched your neck, it was no longer scorched with a freezing burn, he didn't remember leaving you with frostbite on your cheek though. If he could Avenge an entire world- he could be able to stop such a thing from happening again.

"-before, it looked like you wished I stayed up there." There was a crease in your brow and he moved back to sitting by your legs.

He scratched his own neck. "It's just Loki-" he sighed. This was just so messed up, how had you come here with him? Of all people.

"I have heard of a few things he has done- it took a while to put two and two together." Matching name to the man and then to the actions but- "He isn't a bad person-"

Steve eyed you. Have you really heard of what he has done here?

You poked at the slight frostbite on your fingers a little. "-we grew up together and he was my- my Bucky."

He didn't remember you having black fingertips on that hand either, had you run into more trouble up there? Cap sympathised at that sentiment, so you had someone to defend you up there? How can your defender and Loki be the same person?

"I left him up there all alone-" loneliness can warp anyone, he didn't fit in and neither did you- in each life you have lead, you never did- until now. "it's my fault for all he has done."

"You didn't hold his hand as he took over Clint's mind, you certainly weren't around when he let the Chitauri in; not all things are your fault you know?"

"And you don't blame yourself for James' downfall?" It came out colder than expected, you felt it too of course. Had you known he was alive- you would have never left Midgard in nineteen forty five.

Steve let out another sigh and ruffled your hair, still had a way with words didn't you? Though he had a better perspective on the situation; it didn't mean he trusted Laufey's son. But like Barnes was his choice to find; it was now your turn to look for your childhood friend.

There was a silence, Cap was already on the train of thought, but should he ask you? Would it be too much? "Speaking of Buck-" he grimaced. Of course he had to ask. "After you've eaten, do you mind talking to him? He has been acting- well, you've seen him." It started when you ran away the first time, he was only getting angrier and angrier.

You smoothed your hair which again- you had forgotten was as long as it was. You didn't really want to address him, it was better him hating you so when you left again cutting ties would be easier. Looking at Steve- it was going to be awful leaving again either way. "I'll check in with the Sergeant," you gave a slight nod. You came to balance the tray on your knees in a crossed leg motion. You almost expected Steve to leave you to it.

The Captain made a face. "-I thought that might be you Paul."

You almost spat out your lasagne through your nose. Yes, Steve was there too wasn't he? "You caught me, but I am afraid it's too late to take me in for lying on my papers." You smiled with great pasta-stuffed cheeks reminiscing. "You know that was my first alias?"

Cap missed the funny way you ate. "Is that so- how did you get away with it anyway? I could never get in, and you were even smaller than me." A curiosity shone in his eye, oh. How he love stories of the old times.

"What happened was, I had lived in-" you raised a hand your forehead, Steve thought it was a reaction out of pain but it was more- embarrassment. You gave a queasy smile, that's something you didn't wish to reminisce on- "A cave, I lived in a cave. I was taught not to socialise with humans so I segregated myself to live in a shitty cave-" you had lived their for so long, it was probably where you found your etiquette skills- "I went into town for some new fishing wire and heard of the war- thought I could make up for some of what I have done. -I was an Asgardian Princess when I met you all."

"What you have done?" Steve repeated. You weren't a criminal also were you?

You stabbed at your lasagne a few times at that, "Brooks is one of many I have to make up for. Yours wasn't the only war I fought in," you stated distantly, you hurried on not wanting to dwell on the battles you were apart of. "It was miss Carter, she heard my plight and got me in- didn't stop Sergeant James figuring it out now did it?" A smile met your face- you learnt so much from then.

Steve considered this. That's why Bucky followed you around so much. He would have never trusted a group of soldiers with a lone woman at a campsite behind enemy lines. You hadn't just been involved in the Second World War? They did things that to this day didn't make him sleep so good. He didn't know if he could handle any more of such war times. "How did you go MIA?" Steve asked suddenly remembering the plaque made in Paul Baker's name.

"James was gone, you were going down -I was in charge of the back exit and when I was finished there; I just wanted to forget and so I moved on." Even Gieravör hadn't wanted to kill anyone- but when it came to the Nazis- they were less than even human, drenched in blood yet again you escaped Midgard without memory of it all. You stuck the fork in your mouth, why did he look at you like that? Was he feeling sorry for you?

You were alone all that time weren't you? Steve's eyes dimmed. You shouldered far too much for your own good.

You wouldn't have that, it wasn't all bad- "It’s been a good life though, I have lived among Elves proficient in chemicals, healing, archery and potions- and, and Dwarves with robotics to make bronze statues come alive. -I've been an author amongst you guys." You smiled convincingly, you think the last was perhaps the best of them all. Steve sat by you as you told him stories before even his time; of magic, creations and of monsters while you ate perhaps the best slice of lasagne you have ever eaten, hey, the supplements didn't go down too bad either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo~ 299 kudos is an actual metric fuck tonne, thank you so much for your support and keeping up with the story  
> but most of all~~ thank you for reading~~  
> If you're confused about who you are right now so is our little reader haha~~ I'm sure she'll figure it out ~~


	26. Hairy Spiders

 

Good gods- how did you find yourself here? After the tasty lasagne. How had the Captain talked you into this again? Your nervousness crackled away- as did the fires beneath your feet that were hidden in the long folds of the white dress given to you by the mischievous god.

The sheen of the metallic door had you see yourself within it. It had been a while since you had seen a reflective surface, you had avoided them well since your hair was a much brighter shade and much, much shorter. It was easy to recognise the person staring back- it was Vör, from your dream; from your memories- it was just hard to recognise it as yourself. You cleared your throat, it doesn't matter what you look like. "Sergeant James," you knocked.

Your shoulders fell back and your hands met behind you- it felt natural, it was a part of you; the part of you that was a perfect soldier. There was a shifting sound from within the room behind the door but no answer. "Sergeant- the Captain has asked me to check on you." After another moment of silence you guessed to go around his clearance. "Jarvis- he is acting childishly, could you please let me in."

"Indeed Mam, Tony has seen to you having your rights to some doors back." The intelligence replied curtly.

You didn't particularly like how he had said _some_ doors _,_ but guessed Stark wasn't as trusting as Thor or Steve. You might have to get your hands on a dessert spoon for full access, turns out there was a lot you can do with a dessert spoon, living with the dwarves taught you as much. You didn't mean to slap the door's entrance button as hard as you did. "Sergeant- I am coming in." You warned as the door gave way with a space-aged _shhh_. The room was dark- only lit by the city scape from the window.

Bucky was brooding, hunched over on the bed, he was lacking a shirt, winter didn't like shirts all that much, not that you could judge with your bare feet. You averted your eyes. You had forgotten- the winter soldier was completely built. Were his shoulders wider than you remembered?

"-Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" He asked coldly not looking up from his mood.

“You're right,” You came to bite your tongue- so many voices in your head and not all of them in earth's language, you were lucky you came up with English at all. It's how you had addressed him amongst the trenches- he was your Sergeant after all. Or at least, he had been. "Are you okay Buck?" You tried again. Honestly you knew the answer looking at him, those cold greys coming to stab into you. He looked gaunt in the way someone broken does.

"I'm fine," he grunted his voice all husky. It took Steve's words for you to even come see him? "You should leave," he stated dismissively.

"I just got here," you frowned. Why was he acting like this? He had no reason.

"I bet your villain of a man is waiting on you- you should go to him." He replied icily.

His eyes were now unwavering on yours. "That's uncalled for Sergeant- You don't know him."

"I don't think you do either!" He almost shouted back. What was he even saying? He didn't care, he just wanted you out. He wanted to be alone.

"Why are you angry at me?" You scowled, your voice becoming venomous; there were wounds that had not yet healed. "You gave me to them; you sent me to a prison! Sent me there for treason- you could have sent me to my death." Perhaps you were being melodramatic, you were just locked in your room, but he didn't know that when he gave you over to Thor. It could have been anything. He had been the one to betray you and he was angry? It wasn't right.

He did, didn't he? Just gave you up. "You ran away from me, you were going to leave me here alone!" It's what you intended wasn't it? His hair came to hood his eyes in a way you would usually shift with your hand.

That's what you do, that's what you always did, you left him and you left Loki, there was a sting behind your eyes, "I had no choice Sergeant, you saw what happened! If I had only got away, there would be no threat to existence." The conversation was only getting louder.

"Stop calling me that." James hissed with such cold that you felt it slid over you ice going down your back. With every time you had called him Sergeant it was like and axe swing towards a tree. He was crumbling.

"Why? Because that's what I used to call you." Your eyes squinted. Hadn't he figured it out? "I was Paul Baker," you furrowed your brow.

With this, he stood from his place at the end of the bed and approached with long strides. Without hesitation held a hand to your face.

Did he miss you? -that scent, the oil you used on his metal plates, that shampoo, the earth and metallic. His eyes were softening. "You finally improved your hand to hand," you smirked affectionately leaning into his hand and remember a lifetime ago. "You might even be able to beat me now." You mocked. You had once been an arrogant creature in the face of Sergeant James Barnes, he had met your challenges with his own. You were taught fighting skills in the Valkyrie, and he hadn't yet been an assassin for Hydra. You used to kicked his ass. Used to.

That was his Private Baker. But it was a hollow act. You said the words like an actress. “I have always known who you are.” How could he not? The specifics never lined up, but they never mattered. He knew who you were.

What was this? It became apparent his grip on your jawline wasn't as friendly as first thought. He was harsh- he wasn't going to do that again was he-? He wasn't going to break your neck again. You remember that fear. You became very pale very quickly. You shut your eyes tightly from the gaze of the Winter Soldier. “It makes no difference. I am no longer a sergeant and you're no longer-”

He looked at you as you braced yourself for what you thought was to come. He clenched his jaw. Barnes felt his eyes well up, his nostrils flared against the pain in his heart. "You aren't her- hell, you aren't even _____ anymore. I don't even know who you are." He snarled it in your ear so you wouldn't forget it.

You thought him all people would understand what you were going through, to be more than one person; to muddle through it all. But he was right- who were you now?

He released your face roughly, pushing you back.

You didn't even want to look at Bucky. You had disappointed him, you left him alone and he had done you the same deed. There was too much wrong here, you just wanted to forget again. You turned and ran from the room- you wouldn't let him see your tears.

James fell back on the bed in a daze. It was better this way. You made him fall for you twice- you left him twice. He couldn't take a third time. He knew you by two names- the third he couldn't stand to lose, as he fell deeper with each one.

 

It was getting late- your feet took you there without thought, into the nights cool breeze. To the very top of it all. So high up you could see the glow of the giant 'A' below. Avengers huh? Were you even a probee now? You were close with their mortal enemy. Did that make you the exact opposite of an Avenger?

It all seemed so small up here, even a frost giant would be millimetres big from here. You noticed him adjacent the door you came from. It was always him you came to lean on wasn't it? -even without knowing.

"______?" Barton was sitting on his usual perch watching the ground below, he didn't have to ask, he just knew from the sounds of bare feet. Millimetres they may be, but he would sight a frost giant before any harm could be done; he wouldn't let the same thing happen twice.

"Mind if I join you Clint?" you tried smiling, but faltered horribly.

"Of course," he wanted to go see you himself but had heard you didn't want to come down for dinner and thought to let you have your peace- sent Steve instead. You always liked Steve.

You ease yourself into sitting on the edge of Avenger's tower beside him, your feet dangled off the edge giving you a surreal feeling of dropping from such heights at any second- but you knew that feeling, it didn't scare you so much anymore.

After a moment of watching the cars below rushing by in the busy New York streets you finally asked what had been nagging at you for some time. "-Stark and Banner; they figured out what I was way before Thor came here didn't they?" You couldn't put it past them, Bruce had Thor's samples and he was probably comparing you against him, that’s why he had said you weren't as strong as you should be. You could hardly compare to Thor, perhaps Loki maybe, but his strength was more in the arcane anyway. He had a gift for it, mastering a few arts, where you stuck to fire.

"Yeah, we all figured it wasn't our place to tell you what you were. Thor was going to show up one way or another, he would set you straight." Though his voice told that he hadn't exactly agreed to this practise.

There was this awkward silence, you could see your imaginary wedge between yourself and the Avengers again. The night was kind of cold was it? You looked to Barton's bare arms in his tactical vest. You spread a palm in front of the both of you. For the love you felt for the man next to you; you sent out some flames. It bloomed like a rose.

"You can control in now can't you?" You were much stronger than he could comprehend. Taking down a full grown dragon? Was that on par with the biggest Chitauri?

Control it? You hoped so. When you weren't thinking so hard on it, it seemed to just happen. Would it hold up to a dire situation? You didn't know. "-for moments like this that I learnt it." You watched the flames mindlessly trying to forget how James had looked at you.

Clint liked how the flames danced, happy to bathe in its warm glow, but still somehow worried you might burn yourself. "-it's beautiful."

He understood, unlike how Thor had wanted you to use it to harm, he understood it's beauty.

With these flames and that strength of yours, you literally were the God of wisdom; the careful one- "It's funny-" though he didn't really find it so, but it had been playing on his mind since he found you out the front of the tower mid day. "You're centuries older than me- which means I guess you don't need me looking out for you anymore do you?" He tried to smile, he tried to play it off as a joke.

You don't need him anymore, like a mother hawk having her baby fly from the nest. You had a real brother, a pair of them- even if he didn't quite agree with one of them. Clint had been avoiding your eye because he was hiding that he was trying to hold himself together. When he finally looked to you with the fire's glow on your face, he gave his famous frown- "You've been crying."

You tried to hide your sad face just as he had but your mouth gave out into a sad crescent. "I don't know who I am anymore Barton," you bit the inside of your cheek.

"You told me to call you _____," and to him, that's who you were. "You write, you read, you hate shoes, you have no table manners, you lack tact with your words, you swear like a sailor, you have a temper but you're kind, you're smart but you do stupid things and I have watched you for years so I can tell you, _____, that's who you are." And there was so much more, the way you walked the way you held yourself, the mannerisms you didn't even know you had; they hadn't changed from two days ago.

That's who you are now- live with the knowledge of your past and start a new, you weren't Vör, you weren't Marin, Lilly or even Private Baker. But all at once and if that disappointed some; you couldn't help it. "Barton-" you leant your head on his shoulder, "I don't care how old I am, I'll always need you to look out for me; more than you know." -this feeling, it was like holding onto Hati; he was family.

He let an armrest on your shoulders. -that's all he ever needed to hear. And yet- perhaps distracted by the light you held in your hands, the great hawk might have missed something.

 

This feeling- you knew this feeling. With such things running around in your head how had you even fallen asleep in the first place? But this chill. This eery feeling; the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. It was dark. Jarvis no longer played your music. Your room felt even emptier than before despite the mountains of books and worn carpet.

You sat up before sliding your legs over the end of the bed. There was something wrong here- a tingling in your toes that felt like something from underneath your bed, something in this darkness wanted to grab your ankles and pull you under. Like something was watching you- from behind.

It was stupid. Nothing would be there, still- you shifted; turning slowly. There it was in the corner of your eye. It's limbs spalled like a giant spider on a wall. He was clinging to the outer window- but it was so high up.. How? You hurried from your bed to the other side of the room before resigning to your freezing fear.

He froze himself to the glass, with ice the same blue transparency as his skin. It was a simple cock of his head and you saw those crimson eyes flicker in the light. He was decidedly ganglier than the first you had met which only added to the impression of a giant huntsman clinging to your window with its legs in quadrants. Would anyone even make it here in time before he decided to kill you?

You tried to make a sound, but it was lost in your throat. Your knees gave way, you found the floor, and all you could do was look on. This was the creature that killed your parents. That's when he raised a bluish fist gave the window a rap. It shattered in a spiderweb pattern. You found your forgotten scream. The glass was tormented again. Please, Bucky! Where was he?! You were finally enveloped in a coldness.

"Geiravör!" Loki was there with the the smell of leathers, ice and magic.

He was holding you like you were a child again and you were able to pull your eyes away from the window and into those worried greens. You couldn't form words. Why was that thing here? They didn't need anything else from you. It was only unable to break the bulletproof glass in time because it was balancing itself on it. Beside, in the doorway you could see the cruel look of the Winter Soldier.

"What did you do to her?" His hollow voice came.

Loki- already angered by the situation and that you were sitting on the floor of your room scared out of your wits, whipped around to scowl at the only human present so far in the room. He stood from his crouch by your side, and puffed out his chest, even with his slender form. "How did you come here so fast? I don't believe you have the gift teleportation. Was it you? What have you done to her?" His voice was low and icy, such as the once ruler of Jötunhiem.

Why act like this? Here was a real threat here, a real; "-Frost giant-" you swallowed at your drying throat.

The God of mischief turned and squinted towards you, were you addressing him? No- your paler self was staring blankly at the window again.

Bucky didn't understand at first either, there wasn't anything there. But what had left those? The shattering, the ice. Could Loki have played a foul trick. No, that freak was genuinely concerned. Strange; from all the recent stories he had heard of this 'god', he wouldn't believe such a thing was possible.

"What happened?" Loki was by your side and asking before James could even put two and two together.

You felt sick. Should you hide it for Loki's sake? It was just a frost giant, and he was- you swallowed again. You wouldn't let it affect you. "I woke up to- a," you shuttered despite yourself. "-frost giant, he was scaling the building." Just to get to you. You pulled you knees up to your chest. You were too lost in yourself to have seen others file in, too lost to hear the story spread around or for Clint to have started the search for the perpetrator.

"Well she cannot stay here." The god of mischief growled scornfully.

You were pulled from your brain's fog by the loudness of his voice.

"She sure as hell isn't staying with you." Winter countered. The unavoidable rage had his hands itching for something to punch and the snide face of the god in front of him was looking like a perfect target.

"Calm down brother- she can't stay with us there is no room in our quarters." Thor tried the dull the argument's flames slightly.

Ah yes, a necessary evil to stay by your side- he had to share Thor's quarters. In fact this is all this situation was becoming: a necessary evil. Loki should just leave shouldn't he? All these men raining over you, it riled him like nothing else. He knew you better than any of them. But the mention of a frost giant- how could he leave? Had it been one of his own? Had they forsaken him so quickly for his father? What were they even doing here?

"Are you putting your hand up Buck?" Steve asked with his arms folded in the tension of the situation. There was a little hope there- he would have had to been deaf to not hear your argument, even if he was, maybe outside the door listening in.

James smouldered. Yes- but no. He couldn't take you in, this was life and death- a damn frost giant clinging onto you window. But he couldn't.

"The only reason they would be coming for her is because they believe she has already obtained the Chitauri sceptre." Tony spoke over the top disregarding his underling's bullshit.

"So they are only going to keep coming." Loki's nose wrinkled with the growl of his words. He knew the persistence of his once-subjects.

Stark was taken aback, that was emotion he didn't think the god was capable of- you knew how to pick them didn't you? First the once hydra assassin and now the evil overlord himself? How did you attract these guys?

Though stark would admit to still being on the fence about you- you weren't faking that; you were still huddled in a ball leaning on the wall farthest away from the window. You were terrified. The arguments could only be making things worse for you. He let out an agitated sigh. He wasn't lapsing into trusting you again was he?

You didn't feel yourself, as if something else had taken control in you fright. On mechanical legs you stood, you didn't want to hear the fighting anymore- neither did you want to see Bucky. The doona slid slowly from the bed, the chorus of loud voices had stopped to observe you wrapping it around your shoulders and with a snail’s pace and stunned look, you moved from the room.

“-Vör?” Loki tried to lay a hand on your shoulder, but it slid off as did his words.

 

You don't remember getting there, but you were suddenly curled on the couch in the common room. A stubborn Loki lying below you with a pillow and blanket of his own and another brother on the opposing couch snoring like a large golden bear.

You vaguely remember that Bucky and Natasha had joined the manhunt with Clint, Steve have taken to Tony’s favourite reclining chair. It was hard to tell if the Captain was asleep or awake in that position. You had no idea how he could sleep if he was. Here was a frost giant here on Midgard, suppose not being its target would help sleep come.

You weren't sleeping. You were staring. Waiting, somehow knowing it was coming. You tried to still any shivering but flinched when a hand came over you.

Loki stole your fingers from where they rested and brought them down to his level, leaning on an elbow to better look at you. “It wouldn't dare come for you here, I will keep you safe,” he promised you, his breath on your knuckles before his lips.

You softened slightly. You knew you were wounding him though, you were acting irrationally toward the same thing he was. “I'm sorry.” You whispered leaning over the side of the couch to see him better.

“You seem to apologise a lot my princess, but you have nothing to apologise for, I understand.” His mood dipped and his eyes lowered. “But if you doubt my abilities to protect you, I'll admit,” for your sake, “though these ‘avengers’ are dull and oafish, they all seem to care greatly for you.” He tried not to make it sound venomous. You wouldn't trust what he was, you could say you do, you could act so, but the terror you showed tonight reiterated it for him. He was an abomination.

You could feel a dark cloud swirling around him. “Why are you sleeping on the floor Loki?” You frowned.

“-I thought it would be closest-” he started.

“I am certain we can fit two in this couch,” you remember sharing it with a certain soldier.

Loki’s brain stuttered a bit. “If you're sure-” he moved quietly as if not to scare you further, until he was lying snugly against the warm hearth that was you, his back to you to save you looking at him.

You brought your arms around him and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Loki always needed a hug and Gieravör never seemed to give him any, you wanted to dissipate that dark cloud surrounding him.

“You don't have to force yourself like this,” he struggled out of your grasp like a cat that didn't want to be held and turned to face you. “I understand I am repulsive to you.”

“You're being an ass,” your eyes narrowed, “nothing about you is repulsive.”

“No?” Loki above most things hated being lied to, he had been lied to his whole life and for you to look him in the eye and do so- “not even this?” He formed into a colder blue, his crimson eyes centimetres from you.

You reflected on the spidery man from your window. And flinched.

“Lying is unbecoming of you.” He felt you had impaled him on your spear.

But again your searched over that face. You remember once to cheer you up  when you were very young, Loki created one of the winged horses the valkyrie rode on, out of his magic. He had gotten distracted halfway through and the horse ripped in half causing mass terror. In hindsight it was a treasured and hilarious memory. You could think of that as the only time Loki ever truly scared you, his intentions were pure, they nearly always were. Not so much any more. This was the same Loki, bluer, lonelier, colder and at times you’ve heard of, crueler.

“You're beautiful Loki, and you're still being an ass,” your heart let a warmth run through you to match his coldness. Taking him off guard you pressed your lips to his forehead, where cold met heat there was steam but neither of you were harmed.

“-Gieravör,” he breathed.

That's right. He wanted his sister, not the person you grew to be over the last hundred years. You were obliged to give Loki whatever he wanted from you, even if it meant acting like a person who is dead. “Get some sleep brother,” it felt strange to address him as such.

The blue disappeared in his skin like ink in water. He confusedly turned from you and settled back down as if in a trance. There was burning feeling in his skin from where your lips pressed on him.

You didn't hug him this time, he was your brother of course.

 

When you thought you had stared at the ceiling long enough you ninjaed your way out from behind Loki who had drifted finally to sleep, which you knew he didn't obtain much of usually.

You were going to find a two litre carton of milk from kitchens and you were going to drown in it.

But as you walked you noticed a figure. He was hunched on the ground, in the doorframe, leaning for some support as his breathing was slowed. You gritted your teeth. You wanted so badly to kick him and send him flying. You gripped your hands. Who are you more angry at for the situation you've found yourself in regarding Bucky? Him, or you? You left him after all. You let him fall from a freight train.

You sighed quietly. You marched over to where Loki’s blanket was lain forgotten on the floor and as much as you wanted to throw it in James Buchanan Barnes’ face, you carefully draped the asshat in a warm doona.

You scanned the room looking at the slumbering bodies. They were all to protect you? You had to become stronger if you wanted to do the same for them.

 

By morning there was enough milk left to fill a bowl of count chocular.

"Hey,"

You found those blues staring down on you. You sniffed at your stuffy nose. "Hey."

Steve came to sit on the other side of the table. “I thought you might be here-” his eyes flickered to the empty milk carton.

“You found me,” you shrugged shovelling cereal in your mouth.

“You didn't sleep did you?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“You caught me,” you put your hand in false surrender.

You looked tired, drained emotionally. No one didn't hear your argument with Bucky yesterday. Coming here was only getting worse for you wasn't it? He guessed you regretted even coming through those doors in the first place. They lost you the tablet and orb, they put you in harm's way. He was the one to have brought you in. "-we won't let them get you _____,"

“Everyone keeps saying that,” you munched with more vigor. You should be able to protect yourself. You were strong, you had fire, “I shouldn't have frozen like I did last night-”

Steve frowned. “Thor told us those _things_ killed your family, you have every right to be afraid. You've been running from them for so long why wouldn't you be?”

You flinched at the term ‘things’ after all, Loki was one of those things. You ran your hand through your hair getting stuck by a knot as it was so damn, annoyingly long. “Steve-”

He made a sound of acknowledgement.

"Will you train with me after breakfast? I'm afraid no one else would want to-" the last part came out more somber than you'd like to admit. Natasha couldn't stand to be in the same room as you and Clint was searching for a monster. Bucky was- and Loki didn't do hand to hand-

"Of course," you captain smiled down on his once, little private Baker before screwing with your hair- forgetting as you often did just how long Loki had made it.

 

"What kind of pity show is this?" Came the thundering voice. Thor hadn't known the training room existed, these halls truly were impressive. Concealing the existence of the training room was probably Banner's fear of injury to anyone other than himself. If Tony had his way bets would be played on such things.

You went floppy in Cap's headlock, were you still this weak? You had entire planes to save. Well- it wasn't exactly weakness, it was a general lack of skill, like an uncoordinated dolphin out of water. The Valkyrie didn't roughhouse, they wielded spears with grace, the little hand to hand you knew from their training seemed to only get you so far in the forties. Everyone was a lot more skilled now.

Steve didn't realise you were taking this so seriously, he had just been happy he got his little punching bag back in the ring.

Loki slunk in behind Thor like a smelly cat. His eyes discreetly lighting as he saw you then quickly hardening to the position the hairless ape had you in. How unrefined, and yet- you were smiling through the mess that was your hair.

"Pickles." You sighed trying to hide the disappointment of still not being the very best, like no one ever was.

"Sister! Have you fallen so that you would give in to a child of Midgard?" He was scoffing at you again, it was his tendency for competition, and perhaps his lack of tact that controlled his tongue at times.

Ugh, talk about kicking someone when they're down. As Steve released you, you came to hold your head high. No, that smirk the great golden god wore- it always got under your skin. For once you just wanted to put him in his place. Even if he was the ruler of Asgard, and your King even. "Brother- would you like a go?" Challenge dripped from your tongue. You knew you would regret it, but you needed something closer to frost giant.

"Are you serious?" The man chuckled heartily.

You were dead serious, this precious little sister nonsense should have ended decades ago.

"Are you sure?" Steve's brows rose towards his hairline, he had stopped a brawl between Thor and Stark before- he didn't think anyone would win that one, he never wanted to come between that God and anything else again.

Rogers had stolen the words from Loki's mouth, you had to know that wasn't a good idea.

Physically tired from the undermining looks you received from all the men in the room you tried not to scowl. "Come at me bro." You smirked.

 

It was strange to sit next to such a villain, after all he has done. But that's where the star spangled hero found himself in his sweats- shortly after sparring with Loki's little sister. This situation was obscure. Should he say anything? The green and black clad God didn't seem interested in anything concerning the man next to him more the girl in front.

What were you wearing? That was something the woman Avenger would. You just made yet another narrow dodge of Thor's large fist. What were you thinking?

As Thor took steps to flank you, you countered. You circled each other like lions, he was smiling, what's worse, so were you. You had wanted to train to kill. Instead you came to have fun. You had to work hard to keep away, even it he was trying to not hurt you- he wasn't succeeding. In between the defensive work you got two good whacks in, one to the face and to the chest. You were nursing a sore shoulder in return.

When had you even spent this much time with Thor? He was enjoying himself. He had done this with his squadron when young, and had done so with the all father when he was even younger. This was some Asgardian bonding.

Another lunge. You stepped back, you weren't paying attention to the space around you but your attacker. Your feet no longer met with the the blue mat but the wooden flooring. Your back with the wall. There was no stepping back. You were going to have to take this one.

Absorbed as an Asgardian gets during an attack he didn't note the wall behind, his fist swung as he would holding Mjolnir.

The crack was heard through the entire room.

"Vör?" Thor's eyes went wide. But you had punched him with force- how was your body so weak?

"Gieravör!" Loki skidded over like a puppy. Scowling tremendously at Thor.

"______," Steve trailed after.

Scooping yourself off the ground, it could have been worse. "It's nothing-" looking up, was Thor worried for you? "Look-" you had moved to the side at the moment of impact, it had pinned your shoulder to the wall. Incidentally shattering a collarbone and dislodging your shoulder from its proper socket. You grabbed your arm as if from a zombie movie and crunched it back into place followed by realigning your collarbone.

Loki made a strange look.

Steve noted the look. You weren't supposed to be able to put yourself together like that?

"-I apologise-" Thor started kind of stunned at the proceedings.

You stood and stretched a few things back into places they came from. "There is no need- I've done worse to others- I'm good to go again if you want to." You offered. There was still some underlying pain but you had to improve.

Thor didn't look convinced of it all. "I think we should retire for lunch-" he said slowly.

You nodded, that was probably for the best.

As the four of you we exiting the training room Loki caught your arm. "Geiravör- what was that?" Asgardians if they ever were hurt, they healed but not instantaneously. Come to think of it- the frostbite, it was all gone. What did you do?

You made a sad smile. It was something you should have never done, you all but sealed your fate by doing so- it was "An accident I had living with the dwarves." You shrugged it off. Sure it was an elusive answer- but they might figure it out one day, and that day you hoped they might look at you no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwaw poor Bucky the wounded bear  
> thank you all for the kind comments and the 326 kudos~~ you're awesome  
> I know it isn't quite what you were expecting~~ but I hope you still enjoyed it c:  
> also the long delay was because I was on holiday!! at kcon c,: my boys slayed!!!


	27. Taking Hydra

 

"We are riding into battle- and you are wearing that?" Loki looked personally offended. You looked like a little old human, not even the shadow of the goddess that he knew you to be- not to mention you had platted all that glorious hair back.

"-I think so." You didn't see anything wrong with your high waisted pants, floral shirt, big scarf and jacket- especially didn't find anything wrong with your glasses, you found all your new given hair simply got in the way during hand to hand when you were training with Steve so you had tied it all back. You felt more like yourself than you had in a long time.

Stark had said something about element of surprise, leaving you with little to no information, saying you'd be briefed as you all got onto the quinjet and there was nothing more surprising than a badass dressed in flowers. These clothes were stretchy- you could move in just about every position and keep your modesty. You gave him a shrug as you sat across from him in one of Stark's squishy chairs.

You'd have to admit- the quinjet was something you feared more than the usual Stark jet. It was cramped, stretch the wrong way and you could puncture it. You could only imagine what Banner was going through over there with those headphones on, damn you wished you had thought of that. What would happen if you started a fire in this place? You heart gave a panicked double beat. You hadn't seen fire for a while now- what if it was storing up? You scrunched your eyes closed. You had never realised how sharp your elbows looked before, perfect for putting holes in quinjets. You huddled closer into yourself.

Barnes eyed you warily, he wanted to take up the place next to you, make you feel better- he wanted a great many things. As he was reminded yet again you were leaving him, he leaned back into the aircraft's wall from edging closer to you in the seats. It was hard not to listen to everyone's conversation in this little aircraft. He wasn't trying to listen or anything. Not at all.

Though admitting it would be hard- he kind of liked your floral, even that strange hair colour you had worn before. He wouldn't change anything you decided to wear or force you into anything else. Even if it was- maybe, your old uniform- just once- at night. His little Private. You looked so confusingly masculine and feminine. And yet so- tempting. Bucky cleared his throat against Winter's whispering thoughts and pretended his ears weren't heating up.

"And when you burn it all off?" Loki asked impishly, he tried to distract you quietly noting how pale you had become since boarding the aircraft. You had become scared of some of the more obscure things. You could control your own strength, it came with confidence- just as you wouldn't burn anything you didn't want to.

Oh. You didn't think about that. Could you even avoid burning the humble cotton clothing?

"Here- something more-"

And before you could ponder it further you were in white again with a golden metal breast plate, armbands and collar. An ivory metal spear sat in front of you. Loki was your fairy godmother. You couldn't help but feel like an Asgardian again, you didn't think you could fit in amongst humans while wearing these clothes- you were perfectly gleaming.

"This-" you started before marvelling for a moment. She- "I made this didn't I?" You brushed your fingertips along the Asgardian metal to feel the patterns left in it. There were little intricate flowers acid burned in the metal.

Guess Geiravör had some sense even if you didn't particularly like dressing up like her. The twinkle in Loki’s eye had you let it pass. Really, what else could you wear that wouldn't burn up? It wasn't like you were trying to being someone you're not for Loki’s affections.. not at all.

Thankfully he had gotten you very distracted from the inane the threat of being cramped in a giant flying tub. You might even have a small smile. "-you crafted this for me too if you would remember." His voice as velvety as ever.

She made this for him- you wanted to hate it. The green for his eyes and the gold for his royalty. Your fingers came to linger on the ornate metal work of his golden braces unaware of the repercussions your actions would have on him. "it is very suiting brother." it came out slightly robotic, in return he harboured a grin, he really did have a beautiful smile. His face was made to smile, he should do it more often, his teeth were perfect for it, as were his cheekbones.

Only quietly could Loki hear the part of himself that wished the petty Avengers couldn't see the way his eyes softened to you. The rest of him however- was captivated by you, as he was for what seemed like his entire life. He could feel your warmth on his hand as you played with his left cuff, he had forgotten how long he had known cold for.

From above, where Thor was standing, looking down on the two of you sitting- though he was trying not to make a show of gawking- you looked to be the two children he grew up with, huddled together in your own world. One he was never invited to.

This caught Steve's attention as Thor himself had stopped mid sentence. He should find this scene more offensive shouldn't he? As touching as Thor seemed to be finding it to have his siblings reunited- those clothes you were all but forced into... It didn't feel right. It looked like you were dressing as the ghost of someone you once were.

Steve had experienced this feeling once before wearing his old howling commandos uniform from the museum- only then did he realise that he had changed. He didn't belong in that suit, he had grown, though he would always love the times he had in the past he was now in the future, nor did you belong in that dress or even your own commando uniform for that matter. He almost felt sorry for Loki- he was holding onto the memory of you, not the person in front of him. Feeling remorse for a murderer? What have you done to his morals?

'You crafted this for me too if you would remember' Winter felt like rolling his eyes, you had made him his arm. And it was easily like a hundred times better than some leather armour. Winter held a face that he had smelt something rotten and folded his arms.

You retreated from feeling your old metal work much to Loki's disappointment and returned your attention the Ivory metal in front of you. "Natasha- you said you saw this melted down-" You looked towards the inscription of the weapon in front of you. It simply said 'Valkyrie' it was and old Valkyrie spear, there was only a certain number of them- that's why the squadron had been so exclusive.

A moment of surprise surfaced as she had distanced herself towards the back of the jet. “I thought I did-” her voice came out quietly.

Barnes wasn't looking, it was just- in his general viewing space. That spear- you had it with you amongst the Howling Commandos, the late Stark had it amongst his collection. He had never seen you use it though apart from training. There was something regal about you wielding that spear- he had wished to see you use in the field. But fate wasn't kind to him. Nor was it to you it seemed.

"Why do that?" Loki came to frown, then again, you had hated the Valkyrie and the mandatory use of spears. Valhalla's gates, you even had a battle with the winged horses for a while there, Loki, himself had conjured an illusion of a horse that sprouted rainbows to have you used to the creatures. You had laughed at that, he can still picture it.

"It's okay,” you shrugged, “I don't doubt it was melted. The cursed thing is bound to me until death, it shows up in the most random of places, last I saw of it I threw it from the peaks of Germany," your voice became quieter.

“I was in charge of the back door,” It was at the same time Steve was putting the Hydra bombs, meant for the world, down in the ice. "I had orders to let none escape." You paused, how could you explain the numbers? The gore that comes with using a spear, but it was all you knew, a spear was the only weapon were taught. The only one you were allowed to use. You hadn't realised just how quiet the quinjet had become. "And I didn't." You confessed through gritted teeth, disappointed in yourself.

There was no real way you could make them understand. "-I threw it from the cliff after so that it may not be used again." There would be one less Valkyrie without it.

A hand met with your shoulder. You were taken off guard by the owner. Thor? Thor would console the aftermath of a battle. He didn't say anything but there was a kindness about his face you didn't think had existed before. He was a more physical creature than one of words. What had happened to change him this much? Shouldn't he scold you for losing such a precious Asgardian heirloom? Back home it would be considered a great dishonor.

"I'm sorry- I didn't know-" started Loki. He couldn't do right by you, even now. He always tried to help you but found himself upsetting you more often than not. He only then remembered how the rainbow, conjuring, winged horse fell to pieces in a more than grotesque way, as he got distracted by your laughter. He might have traumatized you further. He set to work getting the spear as far away from you as he could muster.

You held up a hand to stop him whisking it away from whence it came. "I threw it away because I thought Hydra was dead- seems it only grew more heads." You caught the eye of your sergeant who was still lurking in the shadows like a stray. For him, even if he didn't want it, you would pick up the weapon again. Hydra had done so much while you were gone, you lamented your cowardly escape from earth in the forties. You had thought only of yourself and the pain you held, not the repercussions.

Loki wondered what was this 'Hydra' that had riled you so? You used to condemn killing and now you were so willing. How evil could they be if you had forgiven him in mere moments and yet set out to destroy every last one if them?

 

It wasn't before long that Nat was behind the wheel of a green army truck she had commandeered from the enemy.

As briefed by Tony, they never resorted to search out every Hydra base- the gamma signature was pinpointed to Sokovia, Eastern Europe, the fine toothed gamma sweep came after months of looking through the Waternoose files. You wanted to bleach your eyes. But it gave time for training. In that time you push yourself hard, finally having a proper purpose to.

A short ask of Jarvis and he made out that your group may be dealing with the rogue scientist; Wolfgang Von Strucker who had been sighted in the area and was on recorded since the bug you stuck on Waternoose. Stark almost kicked himself. Strucker had also been at the Hydra birthday party you had been roped into going to. And so, in the quinjet your group, under a contract of convenience, shipped out to Sokovia.

They couldn't just leave Loki, he already had shown he could escape, they needed all men, so there was no one to watch over him back at the tower- the same went for you but was left unspoken. Seems Loki would only ever follow you anyway so you both were made to come along, much to Tony's unappreciation.

Clint steadied himself in the back of the truck and shot infinite arrows at all that he could see, at times complaining over the group radio about Romanoff's driving.

"Have you seen the road? -because there isn't one!" She exclaimed going over the impromptu speed bump that was a full grown fallen pine.

Thor flew by with the momentum of his hammer. He could take down an entire watch tower from there, he almost felt sorry when fighting against humans- but after hearing more of Hydra from you on the long jet over. He felt no mercy. Thor showed his resolution in the form of a headbutt in the face of a puny hydra agent and even the human's own helmet couldn't save him from the trauma.

Stark zipped by like a dragonfly, not staying in one place for too long as everyone closed in on storming the castle. He kept eyes on the company below for need of his aid.

You sometimes wished for the ability to fly- instead you were sitting on the back of Cap's motorbike which had also once been one of Hydra's vehicles. There was a familiar scent in the air, one you could only identify with war. The iron of blood spilt in the snow, the energy weapons gave off an off putting smell of burning hair, Steve was close so there was the ever present apple pie and after shave, the gunpowder was unmistakeable but you had never experienced these things next to Asgardian leathers and ancient metals.

You nose felt cold in the wind taking in these things on the back of the motorcycle. You had to ride side saddle. Really, you preferred your granny wear- and glasses, things were much more flexible that way. Not to mention how you would have enjoyed not having your hair get in your mouth when it was tied up. You couldn't help but think of riding the winged horses of the Valkyrie while on the back of the bike. It may have become the job's only perk after a while. There was something about a winged horse that would shit rainbows on the edge of your memory.

"You're not daydreaming again are you _____?" Steve called back over the rumble of the engine. He had noted that you were neither talking nor paying much attention to the looming danger. Not to mention that had had grown a sixth sense to tell when you were dreaming. Having you as a lounge-room bunk buddy recently has only made him feel closer to you.

"Not at all," he could hear the smile in your voice so you both know quite well that you had been. You hid your cold nose in the blue of his winter captain's suit "-Just drop me at the front door away from all these flammable trees." You mumble into his broad shoulders.

There looked to be more dirt and snow surrounding the compound rather than the plants of the forest, you had already learnt that you could burn damp wood, you didn't like the thought of losing control and setting everything up in flames. You still weren't all that revised in fire magic or else you might have lit a fire in your hands to battle the cold. You would just have to hang in there- and onto Steve's body heat.

"Copy that." Rogers affirmed fighting an urge to chuckle at your shivering grip around his waist. Perhaps next time you go travelling in a European winter, you might rug up.

The steely, grey eyed Bucky had found himself a nice tree to camp in. He had pulled half his hair up to keep his sight free from phantom hairs. Winter was built for one on one, being down there he would be swamped so the best he could do was watch everybody's back, all at once, through the scope of his sniper's rifle- not to mention Stark had said something about getting too close to Hydra, they might use 'some sort of Jedi mind trick' on him into going nuclear against his own team. Which was a reference he only got because of you.

He didn't like the thought of sitting back, Clint would be doing the same, but there was no denying that Hydra could have their own Jedis -Still he found himself watching Steven's new motor bike more than he would like to have admitted.

He was waiting in the wings, hiding by a bush on the track- you were sure to pass him on the bike. You didn't see him taking aim with his vaporising gun. But your Captain did. Steve dipped you one side suddenly and you had to hold on tighter to him for support. As he leaned he grabbed a foot of the lurking Hydra agent to drag him behind the bike. You grimaced at the man's screams, but saw another in the corner of your eye- he was flying? He had a strange exoskeleton mech strapped to him, Hydra should really leave the flying suits to Stark. Without thinking, you only saw his Hydra-gun aiming for Steve, you improvised your spear as a makeshift bat, and his head became the ball.

James flinched at what he was seeing through the scope. With your strength and the speed of the bike- it was like using a well ripened watermelon as a piñata.

The blond Cap threw his shield to hit another and it ricocheted around the forest thirsty for more hydra to hit. "You alright ______?" You had been most in the splash zone for the piñata. He remembered times you had to walk away from the battlefield after the things you had done. You were so much older than him, you were still too young for war. Rogers wished you would just stay in the quinjet- but you saw this as your mess to clean up.

Personally- you felt rather ill. But these people have chosen their side, and you have seen what they did to people in the past, you could only imagine what they had gotten up to in the time being. "Ask me later." Is all you could make out. You often forgot everyone could hear each other over the radio. You buried your face back into his shoulder blades, you almost felt safe beside Steve- even after what you had just done.

When was the last time Loki had let loose? He looked even more pale against the snow, the wind took his long hair and he felt free. A little misdirection here, a sharp dagger there. He had not smiled this much in ages- his cheeks might even hurt. There was so many tricks he had left go unpulled, his powers were only as limited as his imagination. Which was vast. Though he could probably do more with his sceptre.

Mjolnir gave a _thunk_ as Thor swung it mid air against the chest of yet another flying Hydra agent from atop one of their wooden lookouts. He couldn't help but look to where Loki was making his way on foot to the compound in the center- he was taking his time weaving trees and finishing many with trickery. It never really sat right with Thor- it felt like cheating to win with illusions. But he really was smiling down there wasn't he? And it wasn't as chilling as he was used to, despite the killing. He looked to be glad he was helping you. There was still hope.

"You might want to hold on." Cap called again, he didn't understand wearing a dress in battle either, wasn't side saddle a little dangerous for a motorbike?

You held tighter around his waist like Sebastian used to when you bent down to grab the letters in the afternoon. But careful not to squish the man. There was a ramp of fallen snow and ice, gravity doubled on the short climb, the bike's suspension was tested before the sudden drop. The motor roared as the wheels lost traction in the free fall.

You had gained speed in that time. So much so, that you may not be able to stop for say- a tank- parked directly in front. You gave a short squeak and readied for impact. But it never came. You laxed and opened your eyes to have seen a zap of pure Stark-energy, then the tank passed back by Thor and Mjolnir to Banner's greener form who was playing quarterback. He then proceeded to 'smash'. You had never been so relieved to see the jolly green giant.

Thor sent a short 'thumbs up' your way like a dorky older brother should.

You kept down the same road, Loki had appeared beside Barton in the back of the jeep, Clint mumble something about putting an arrow where he probably shouldn't. The Hulk ran alongside- Tony swooped down from above, as did Thor. There was a great fallen log coming up, Nat swerved the jeep. All three that had been aboard jumped out and lunged over the break in the path with the momentum of the speeding vehicle. The absolute trooper of a motorcycle took the log like a challenge. Everyone made it over the great pine at the same time and Bucky had a perfect view of all the company from his new, closer, camping tree.

"Tony, what's up ahead?" Steve commanded over the radio.

Stark compiled by going higher and over the trees where he could finally see the building the company was flanking. It was an old building, it could have been with Hydra from the very beginning, it was built into the side of a snowy mountain with grey stone bricks to perhaps blend it in a little with its surroundings- which wasn't helping this close up, because the old castle was huge- maybe not by Stark's standards but perhaps just about anybody else's. "I'm going to try and see if I can get closer," is all you heard over the headset before- "Shit!"

"Language!" Cap tutted from in front of you.

You chuckled despite the situation, you always get told off and now finally Stark received some of the forties soldier wrath.

"-Jarvis what's the view from upstairs?" He continued to talk to Jarvis who was- everywhere. He was watching from both Tony's perspective and on high from one of Stark's sidelites.

"The central building is protected by some sort of energy shield." He reported back curtly. "Strucker's technology is well beyond any other Hydra base we've taken."

Not to mention far more populated than you remembered them being from when you cleaned them out in the forties.

Thor was dancing with multiple Hydra agents amongst the trees in the cold forest, his blondness blending with the white of the snow. An archer's explosive rounds brought bright oranges to the bleak surroundings. "Loki's sceptre must be here, they wouldn't be able to mount this defence without it."

The blue glow of the weapons that the humans were armed with, did in fact come to be familiar to Loki now that he thought on it. He had been too busy letting his imagination run wild to have acknowledge it prior. Loki knew this power he had much more control over it than the humans did- just enough to- redirect the azure energy back to those who had fired at him in the first place.

Thor called his hammer forth from across the battlefield as yet another masked agent came from behind him. He sensed it and dodged his incoming hammer nonchalantly for it to land in the visor of the helmet of the hydra agent. "-at long last," he could keep its tyranny from earth. The only damper was that he would be handing it to his little sister and losing her at the same time.

There was a flash of red, she dove from over a wall- grabbed two men by the neck and ended them just as swiftly with no other noise than the _snap_ of necks. "'At long last' is taking a little long boys." Nat replied emotionlessly, recovering from her place on the forest floor, then fired her pistol before the blacked out man operating a large gun aimed in the direction of a certain motorcycle.

-boys? Truthfully you felt like you _had_ become a little bit of a shadow to the battlefield. You had never truly fought alongside all the Avengers at once, and now you hadn't done anything at all, when their endurance was waning all you were feeling was slightly chilly. Sitting on the back of Cap's bike it was easy to become a wallflower, did they even need you really?

Eyes as blue as the surrounding. The super-charged tank fired directly for him. The impact was so loud it left a ringing in Barton’s ears. -Had he not ducked behind the tree in time he would have found himself with a new hole. It didn't shake his aim as he replied with another explosive round. "Yeah, I think we have lost the element of surprise." Clint gestured to the whopping gash in the tree that no one else could see but himself and maybe Bucky who quietly took out yet another soldier to the side of Barton.

There was no glory for a sniper, the best sniping was done when no one even noticed it had happened.

Tony plunge low, closer to the currently impregnable base and along its walls clearing the way with sharp zaps of energy from his hands. "Wait a second- no one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said language?" The Iron Man scoffed.

"But he always tells me off!" You frowned, why was it that he couldn't get in trouble?

"That might be because your tongue is foul." Thor accused simply dropping Mjolnir on someone's head from above the trenches.

You made a scowl for wherever your brother was.

James' lip upturned as if he wasn't just aiming for a man's head, who was now, no longer breathing.

Steve gave a sigh before he saw a army green jeep supporting four guys with _big_ guns, approaching. "______," he urged.

You looked what had caught his attention. There was no dodging that, especially since it seemed Rogers only speed up in reaction. Suppose this was your stop. You slipped off the bike as nonchalantly as anyone would step off a train. The still ground felt strange to stand upon after moving at such speeds.

Moments later, Steve made a handstand maneuver over the handlebars, as his feet made it to the ground he used the bike's own speed against it, still grasping the handles, he threw it forward, and into the windshield of the jeep. "It just slips out sometimes." He puffed. Why did he only get credit for the dorky things he did? Did anyone else see that? He turned to look to you but it seemed you were too preoccupied moving towards the base to comment either.

Guess this was close enough to the compound, you walked a little closer while Steve moved backward to the front lines with the other Avengers. The trees were lessened with the smell of moist pine as you stepped further but the population had only thickened.

Now you could finally do something to help the team without risk of burning them all alive. The white dress billowed around you in the icy Eastern European wind, your toes felt like they may now freeze and drop off in the snow. Right- you had all this cloth to deal with. How were you supposed to put all this hand to hand knowledge to good use, in this? That's right- you had this fire thing. You had- shit, how did you do that again?

A bullet whizzed by as you were figuring yourself out. You hissed as it made impact with your arm, it only hurt for a moment before blooming into a great blotchy bruise, but that was a moment too long. Your head snapped to the direction it had come from. There were three on a small ridge of ice and snow, all with rifles aimed at you.

You scowled and rose a hand. You would just- throw a massive badass fireball at them, that would melt their eyes from their sockets- they couldn't shoot at you then. You managed a throwing gesture. Nothing happened. You tried again. And again, before it turned into you making all-out flailing arm movements at them. You ceased. It was awkward. You could feel them laughing at you from under their dark tinted helmets.

You were supposed to focus on a passionate emotion and it would just- appear. But you felt- a coldness about you, still a wound of betrayal. Still heartbreak. And more than that- the opposite of love and even anger- you felt fear, fear was dark and eery and cold. The image of a frost giant clinging to your window came to mind, you flinched at the sudden voice that came over the radio.

"I expected more fire to be coming from your direction." Came Stark who was keeping an eye on you and Loki for a moment over head. Loki looked to be only causing trouble for the opponents. And you- looked a little pathetic.

You marched towards the three focusing on you as if to prove Stark wrong, dodging and taking the bullets that you knew weren't so much of a bother. The humour had dispersed from them as you suddenly appeared unkillable.

"It's hard to control- just as hard as controlling your emotions, you can't just manufacture a feeling," especially when you felt this cold. You replied finally close enough you jut out your ivory spear. Taking a spear to a gunfight wasn't a good idea as you ate more of their ammunition.

"So what you're saying is you can't get it up?" Quipped Tony circling on high. You were taking too many bullets, what were you doing down there? Steve had said you were one of his legendary Howling Commandos, but here and now you didn't look to be soldier material.

You couldn't think of a reply, only a sigh. He certainly wasn't helping. The men were forming a triangle around you like boxing in a beast. They were trying to aim for vitals but you wouldn't let them hit, neither would the armor covering your torso and the few band on your arms- the Asgardian metal was too structurally sound. You swung the Valkyrie spear around with speed aiming for the one closest behind.

You weren't looking backwards towards him so he hadn't thought to stepback. The tip was sharp and you were too quick, he hadn't even felt the pull of his skin tearing. He was conscious long enough to see his innards meet the snow before he died on his feet.

That left a bad taste in your mouth, where was the bloodlust? The comradely competition that made killing easier? Sure, Tony was up there- but he had turned his attention to the castle once more, he others were towards the forest. You couldn't help but feel- alone, not only on the ground, but when you actually got a hold of the sceptre- you would have to walk away from all this. Face the giants alone. A chill spread up your spine.

The second was gawking at what had just been done to his comrade, he played with idea of escaping and removing his helmet to relieve his stomach contents before you quickly parried forward, and jabbed higher. The helmet wasn't strong enough to withstand the strength behind the point of your spear.

You couldn't see the gory side of what happens when you impale someone on a large stick through the back of their mouth because of the helmet- but blood ran down the spear and onto your hands. He couldn't even scream. Just gurgle. You relieved the man's now-dead brain of your spear tip with a tug and a _squelching_ sound. Your brows drew together. You tried to imagine the warmth of the zen room when the sun hit it as it was setting, the tranquil scents Banner burnt in that space. You felt nothing but freezing. You were zoning out spectating the blood dripping from your weapon to the snow when you felt the cool of steel on your temple.

"See you come back from this _demon_." Came an accent you couldn't place from behind the pistol aimed at your head. You had just taken out two of his comrades- he would take his revenge even if it killed him.

Would you come back from that? No. It would be impossible, all you were was in your brain, the stories, the muddled memories, these emotions. You swallowed a lump in your throat, where was it something like you goes to in the after life? You didn't want to find out just yet- you could turn and attempt to knock the gun away-

The gunshot sounded, it was louder than any other on the battlefield.

You froze up, you felt nothing- was it shock? Were you already dead?

Hydra's soldier slumped to his knees before you could even move. You looked up with eagle eyes. He was between two trees, lying on the upper ground looking to where everyone was below. There was no mistaking those grey eyes. There was a blush across his nose against the cold, a black scarf was pulled up to his chin, even the tops of his ears held a little crimson as they were visible from having his hair up. You felt something electric -magnetic even, you had an urge to curl up next to him and keep him warm.

He stared back, his eyes never leaving you as he reloaded yet another bullet into the barrel.

Your heart gave a squeeze. There was a tingling sensation in your toes, he had saved you- again. Your Bucky Barnes. You moved quickly in return, anger sparking quickly. You raised a hand and pooled heat into it, gathering fire into a compact ball. You aimed it up towards him and threw with aim learnt from elven archers.

All James could see was the slight of fire coming straight for him. He kept eye contact with you still. He trusted you as the day he inducted you into the Howling Commandos. Didn't move an inch. It passed him and felt the burn on his left cheek as it passed by his over his shoulder. He then felt the reverberation in the ground of a body drop behind him.

You could just make out the kink in Bucky's smile, he was only watching you. You had missed that smile, so rare on that mopey face of his, he used to smile all the time, even during that horrid war. You still wanted to throw your weapon away and go to him but you couldn't. There was a battle to be won.

With him watching you didn't feel alone anymore. Now that was something that definitely make you feel warm. More were coming from the entrance of the compound. You remorsefully dragged your eyes away. These were the men to have tortured him, stole Stark's weapons and lock him with a caged tiger, took Steve from his time.

You turned. This was bloodlust. You stepped over a body you had already grounded. You found yourself in front of a group of men on the snow. You could vaguely hear the thunk of vibranium, the sounds of arrows cutting air and the roars of the great green giant. You twirled your stick around before tapping it harshly into the ground. The spear burst entirely into auburn flame, you could feel its warmth on you face, it felt like a hug from a sniper. -you would end this before the heroes could get here.

The men figured they had caught out the easiest one to take down, you were the littlest after all, despite your flaming stick. You were letting them encircle you, while you kept a primal guarding stance.

Really- they were lining up just for you. The first bullet caught you in the back and clanked against your golden backplate. -the game was on. You spun, whirling the spear backwards skimming the circle.

As expected the soldiers stepped back, the problem with spears on a real field of war was that they only extended so far. You were a neanderthal on the grounds of modern man. But the arcane fire extended its reach scorching those who underestimated your weapon's length.

From there the monsters were scattered. You rolled to dodge the open fire that had begun with the surprise burning, you dodged closest to a man wielding one of the vaporizing guns finding it better to take him out first, from your smooth, dodging roll you extended into standing and throwing at the same time, he wasn't able to release the blue energy of the rifle before he was stabbed in the gut with a flying, flaming stick and became the mount for a flagpole in the ground.

You caught up to where you threw your spear, and jumped, using the spear in the body to vault a burning, jaw shattering kick into the next pig to the slaughter- your hands never leaving the stick you brought it up from behind you and sliced downwards with the tip to vertically slice down yet another. Leaving three in the snow.

James forgot that he was supposed to be supporting you here, you looked like you were dancing without the dancefloor or partner, the ends of your dress picked up flames as your feet melted the snow beneath. That's why you didn't like shoes, ever. The white fabric flowed lazily with every turn with every step in your waltz. Strange to think of how clumsy you often were. You adorned a chilling smile. He couldn't help but find you beautiful still, blood splatter, bruises and all.

"We have an enhanced in the field." You vaguely heard over the radio from Steve.

Just what was going on out there? You had been too immersed to notice the radio after too long.

Shortly came a rushed "Clint's been hit." From Nat.

Hit? What did that mean? He has been killed? No- they couldn't. They gunned down your mother? You couldn't hear the radio after that, it was as if your world had stopped rotating, it was deafening, until you realised the men in front of you were the ones to blame.

You scowled and gritted your teeth, your gaze becoming steely. To think, you felt remorse for killing only two of them before. Now- you would end them all. You could hear the front lines getting closer, they were bringing tanks back and the Avengers weren't far behind. For Barton. You gave a final swing of your fiery pike and released a feral Asgardian cry. Sparks flew, spattering fire from the end of your spear like liquid.

At first the men didn't understand, it was only a small smattering of flames no bigger than a tealight candle's. Easily patted out.

Leaning on your stake like a large staff your made a gesture as if holding something invisible in a clawed hand out in front of you. You commanded it, just as you had sending flames back into the belly of the mother Nidhogg. You raised that hand that cupped the air, it felt like you physically lifted something heavy, perhaps heavier than the weights you pumped. As you raised your hand you urged the flames to grow, the candle flames became campfires before raging into full on fires that engulfed entire bodies.

Loki stopped in his tracks. His illusions were doing his work for him, he was distracted by the beautiful orange glow. You were a goddess.

Bucky had forgotten all about he bullets in the barrel of his gun.

The fire's light glowed in your eyes, the monstrous figure of you wearing a smile that glinted your canines in the snow, would be the last thing they knew. Valkyrie: chooser of the slain.

And you wouldn't cease fire until the screaming did. The smell of burning pork was so thick you could taste it, the smoke came to layer the battlefield.

Few people saw it happen because it was the big green guy was hard to miss but most were too distracted with their own battles. Loki had turned to enjoy the rare delight of influencing two friends into stabbing each other, taking away the illusion at the last second to have them die knowing they killed their own comrade. He saw the flash of gamma-radiation green in the corner of his eye.

Bucky's eyes had forgotten to leave you so he didn't have the chance to miss it.

The Hulk had been having a lovely time being let out of the cage that was Bruce Banner. He had smashed three tanks and thrown an infinite amount of tiny people around. But he liked the tanks better, they were bigger and more satisfying to smash. His eyes came to practically shine like a child presented with a new toy. Another great, big, army-green tank came into view.

It let out a beam of blue as it saw him too.

Hulk let out a savage roar. Puny humans. His eyes that had just shone narrowed into slits. This was a challenge! The Hulk ran at the great machine all but rivaling it in size. He tackled it as if in a football match. The men inside hand no choice but to escape the vehicle because the Hulk had bypassed the length of the gun to hug the tank around the middle. A hatch opened and puny humans seem to vomit out of it. Bothered by the inferior creatures escaping him the angry Hulk spun three times to throw the tank a long way away.

You weren't exactly ready to be batted with a tank by the Hulk; but you were. On the first spin of the tank, while you were too enveloped by the screams of others, you were knocked clean off your feet and sent hundreds of metres in the air. You made an unintentional ' _uhf'_ as you lost the wind from your lungs. Even moving through the the air you couldn't quite tell what had happened. You were there- then you weren't.

Your armour was the heaviest part of you and so you followed it cutting through the sky, your dress taken by the wind, which left you to look like an Asgardian sized shuttlecock. Your body went through the stone wall, armor first, before skidding, rolling a couple of times and your face coming in contact with something metal. There was a great _dong_ , that was only echoed inside your head with the rattling of your brain.

Good god what was that? Were you alright? Sure, you were this 'Asgardian' thing but you had just gone through a brick wall sixty feet up. Bucky didn't contemplate whether he was on good enough terms with you- or these 'Jedi' Hydra may have. He only picked up his rifle, shouldered it on his back and ran for the compound.

You rubbed your butt, then your head. A long string of creative words, that would definitely make Cap tut, spewed from your mouth as you wheezed, trying to gather air in your lungs again, that's all anyone heard of you over the radio. Your body was completely winded, that was tender, everything was tender. You still had bullet bruising. You groaned and stood to finally see the metal that you had crashed into. "Tony?" You coughed, sluggishly in your disorientated state.

"I am afraid not Ms. ______," came Jarvis' voice. "I am merely on sentry duty."

This was a lot to still take in- that's right, Jarvis could self pilot, and do the macarena. You squinted around the room for a while. There were computers, huge ones- one of Jarvis' latest bugs looked to be downloading the entire contents of the servers here. Naturally, it wasn't just for the sceptre that Stark came, that would be all too generous. "And- where's Tony?"

The empty suit pointed to the wall.

Was the suit broken? The bearded idiot can't be in a wall. Actually, if you remembered correctly, if your head really was in working order- Hydra liked their secret doors didn't they? Still in a bewildered state you hobbled, making for the wall-door. Pushing through you were met with a stone corridor.

It was strange- as you walked it got drafty, after drafty it got cold. A cold you hadn't known since visiting jotunheim, a place where the sun never hit. You brought your hands together to start a fire. It didn't light. Why wouldn't it light? You were boiling in rage after what was done to Clint, warm all over because of Bucky and full of forgotten bloodlust. God. Damn. Light! You had been staring at your flame-less hands for so long you hadn't realised the scene you had walked in on.

Fingers gnarled and twisted, blackened almost into lifeless tree branches. They were piled up. Everyone you have ever loved. Their faces pulled into looks anguish, frozen in ice for all of eternity. Your face fell. James was the closest, crouched by Steve almost as if they were positioned that way. You felt tears brewing. Your hand went out to touch Bucky's face one last time, all your hand met with was a stone cold feeling and clouded over eyes, frostbite had eaten at his skin and weapons wounded his body.

Everything smelt of decay. More ice had been built up around the dead's feet than their faces- like someone had poured water on them as they froze into place after beating them into submission. Only- the water was diluted crimson. It looked like a fucked up fishmongers display. There was a noise behind you, it sounded like a gasp. You stood suddenly from your crouching position in front of your once-Sergeant and turned- you saw nothing but the bleak abyss. Where had you even come from? You don't quite remember. When you turned back though- he was big. He was huge. Four or five meters so. You shifted backwards in surprise and cowardice. He looked down his hook nose at you with bloody red eyes.

"Laufey." It came out low like a feral growl. Your loved ones had been positioned, only you hadn't realised it because all you had seen was your friends- not the throne he had made out of them. His rear sat upon the corpses of your family. And- he was laughing. "I'll kill you." You promised.

You looked to where Steve and James had essentially become his arm rests. To where he sat pervertedly in Nat's lap atop a Hulk frozen in time probably still alive, to your brothers becoming his head rest, Tony becoming the head of the chair. To Barton lying at his feet- where he rested them.

"I. Will. Kill you." You screamed again, you have never felt such rage, and yet never so cold. You then blinked- and blinked again. Your eyes resting on Loki, his face pulled in painful anguish. Oh, come on. You have seen visions, you have seen hundreds, you knew when someone was in your head- the eye of Agamotto frequented your brain often, and Loki, himself, had shown you the most beautiful illusions.

"Whoever you are inside my head- you can see this too, can't you?" You hissed. The fakery caved in on itself leaving you in the darkness with a girl. “This is a very real prospect of you don't hand over the scepter.” You tried diplomatically.

"Is that a threat?" There was Romanian in her voice. She had long brown hair, her boots climbed high. Her nose was on the shorter, cuter side and her eyes were the most capturing part about her, they were grey, dark and deep set. A powerful air was about her, it was electric like being in the presence of Loki. She smelt like ashes and that lingering arcane scent that hung around those strong enough to use magic.

"It is no threat." You scowled, was this the 'enhanced' that got Clint 'hit'? You clenched your jaw. It had better not be. Think happy thoughts. You didn't want any trouble and there was no way of knowing if she had been or not. "It's a promise. I am going to take it and hide it away from something more terrifying than any of us."

She laughed at that. "There is nothing more terrifying than Tony Stark."

You squinted. What did she hate about Stark? Granted he wasn't a perfect being and he could get under your skin but you doubted he'd ever intentionally harm anyone -innocent. "There is- you just saw it in my head." If she had this power she might even have the power to delve deeper into your mind.

"A man couldn't possibly be that big- you were accentuating it because he is what you fear most." She reasoned and yet- she was here. When she shouldn't have shown herself at all. It intrigued her- you knew mind manipulation, you could tell that it was happening when her mind meddling had become seamless. What was she doing so wrong?

"He is a frost giant- chief of them, the biggest of them." There was a sickening pull at your stomach. "Laufey. He is invincible. And he wishes to lay claim to the entire nine realms, freezing them over-" including all inhabitants and your family. And it is all your fault. "He shouldn't just be my fear, he should be yours too." You said more quietly.

By now she was making a strange face. How could she trust an Avenger? She lingered in your mind- she couldn't tell if you were lying. Oh god- they were all going to die. How did it come to this? Tony Stark and his _Avengers_ being her only hope.

"_______!"

You didn't remember telling her your name. Wait- no... That wasn't her. She was fading into a red mist the hallway you were following taking her place. "Buck?" You made out groggily.

"I saw you fall through the wall and I thought-" his grey eyes were wide. His face was hovering moments from yours.

You took in the world around you. Black scorch marks surrounded you, you must have made them trying to keep yourself from the imaginary cold- and trying to take Laufey's head.

James couldn't even get close before. You had enclosed yourself in a globe of fire- you were swearing and yelling at nothing.

"-An 'enhanced' plays with minds." You felt exhausted as you mumbled your explanation. There was only so much healing your body wanted to do and that was without someone screwing with your head. You felt something cool press against your forehead. You leaned into his metallic hand.

"You're burning up." He curled some loose hairs from your now sweaty, red cheeks, or were they wet from tears? What had you seen to leave you like this?

"I thought I was freezing." It came out vaguely, guess you overcompensated by setting fire to everything. You met his eyes again and almost expected them to come back to you dull, lifeless and frozen over again. "-She made me face Laufey," you sniffed, leaving out that he had created a throne of corpses, namely an armrest out of the man in front of you.

There were things in this universe he couldn't save you from wasn't there? Even if he didn't want to admit it to himself. Bucky leaned in closer to you.

You were lost in his silvery eyes. There was something electric about being so close to James Barnes without being near him in so long you had lost your resistance to him, it was like meeting him for the first time all over again, though, then in the trenches you denied yourself to even look at him. You just wished- he would be smiling.

Bucky's silver arm wrapped around your back, the other across your shoulders urging you closer into him.

Your face became buried in his shoulder all you could smell was the leather of his black Winter's uniform. The Winter Soldier was a stubborn creature, he would wear it in the snow regardless and so Steve had forced an apple pie smelling scarf onto him. It was still fresh seeing him stone solid- you wrapped your arms around Bucky in return and snuggled into him, pretending there weren't any new tears on your face. You felt warm and safe like that time at the orphanage you built yourself a blanket fort to keep the other kids away, hidden in blankets and surrounded in books. You missed this feeling ever since leaving Avenger's tower.

This was all he was useful for anymore, isn't it? In a league of men even stronger than a super soldier. He rubbed soothing patterns into your back. You always had an ability of making him feel weak- it was the reason the both of you detested each other at the base camp in Italy. Then the arrogant Asgardian you were- you had to go and save his life. He had hated you when Thor showed up and you ran away, he relied on you too much, you were only going to leave again. There was nothing he could do to stop it but at least be on good terms with you. He gave you a squeeze, maybe you'll come back to him one day?

You gave a sigh- breathing him in, you wouldn't cry at a time like this, on a battlefield no less. You didn't cry, ever. Never ever. You wouldn't have heard the last of it from Thor had he not changer. "Don't be so soft Barnes." You were muffled in his shoulder still. "We have a Hydra base to take down yet."

You were right, not to mention you had once hated help from anyone else but yourself. There were still parts of Baker shining through. He pulled back.

You mourned the loss of feeling him around you but rubbed at your red eyes and nose fervently all the same. You were bigger than this- you would have to be if you were going it alone soon. You picked yourself up off the floor, and eased yourself onto your feet again.

"Hey, woah- take things slow." Bucky's arm automatically went around your waist to steady you, you were back to being your knobbly self after the graceful Valkyrie.

"Just because I used to be a princess doesn't mean you still have to treat me like one Sergeant." You chuckled, as if to brush him off but found yourself leaning on him in return. If someone fucks with your mind for too long there is much dizziness for the time afterwards.

-Princess? He really hadn't thought about it. The other two were princes of Asgard at a time? There was an old drill Sergeant that would call you that as much as Stark did; Princess. Guess there was no real covering up your royal tendencies. "Where are you off to?" Bucky frowned as your started hobbling the opposite way to whence you came and taking his metallic arm with you.

"Stark came this way and there is a witch on the loose." You said rubbing at your eyes.

Though he was sure Stark could handle himself he also knew you could be just as stubborn as the Winter. He followed along all the same.

 

Tony Stark was gawking with his impossibly dark eyes, his mouth slightly agape skewing his perfect facial hair slightly.

You couldn't deny the thing he was staring at was gawkable. A great Chitauri beast hung from chains on high within the secret room. It lipless form was all teeth, it's head alone could even rival your length. There was a dank rotting smell of a flesh you couldn't describe the smell of because it wasn't something you knew. But the rot was undeniable because of its sickly sweet smell. The looked to have been in the middle of pulling the beast to pieces, bit by bit. Piles of tech lay around on steel tables, some of it Stark's, which with Waternoose's participation, you weren't even surprised to see. You could see the sceptre glinting on display just below the great beast. Why hadn't Tony picked it up? Better yet how had he not known you were in the room with him? You looked to where Bucky was beside you.

He hadn't noticed anything in the room but the greying, lifeless monster hanging from the rafters. Bucky swallowed loudly- and he thought he was out of his depth before.

You gave the hand he had on your middle a squeeze, he looked down to you, his blood slowly started returning to his face. You noticed Stark again, he was lost wasn't he? The mind manipulation girl couldn't be far behind- she must have got to you on the way back. "Tony!" You called. There was no response. You hobbled out of James' reach and put a hand on Stark's shoulder.

Everything moved so quickly, moments ago he was looking at Rogers broken shield and now, the adrenaline, the fight or flight mechanism that come with a panicked response- he attacked without thinking. Stark wasn't nothing without his suit- he could still give a good uppercut.

You didn't even flinch with his fist's impact, but your eyes turned to a scowl.

"-Princess?" He retracted his fist. You really had been lifting lately hadn't you. There was no response to his all natural human fist- it only hurt for him. Stark cradled his hand to him, it was like punching a statue- scarier still, it was like punching Thor.

"Before you ask- there is an enhanced, she fucked with your head."

While he was pondering on this he looked to James staring up at the Chitauri steed again, and back to you, then anxiously to the sceptre. There was no way you could have it now- not after what he had just seen. He then went back to eyeing you. "Have a little lover's tiff did we?" He referenced your red nose and eyes, trying to recover his humour in the face of what he had seen. Not to mention- no one hadn't heard your fight on the first day back.

You rubbed at your eyes yet again and scowled some more- only Stark could ever have this effect on you. "If you must know, I met the little enhanced shortly before." Despite his smart mouth you put a hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze. "I know just how messed up it could be." He wouldn't have seen the same as you but his own personal hell.

"Let's just grab the staff and get out of here." Grumbled Winter who had taken to folding his arms and glaring at the monster ahead as if it had challenged him to a staring competition.

"He is right- this was nothing I couldn't handle, at least I didn't cry like a little girl." Stark scoffed further but returned your gesture in patting you on the back. He called for his glove- and snatched the sceptre from its place.

 

The walk to the quinjet was a somber one, could Barton really be gone? Romanoff stood out the front when the three of you rejoined the rest of the company. You couldn't read her face, then again, it wasn't often that you could read Nat's expression these days. She gave you a slight nod. You bit your lip, ready to see the worst- a body bag within the quinjet.

When you finally saw Clint, he was on a steel table. Very much alive and very much complaining. Relief spread through the your body as if your had just been pulled back from a cliff you were about to trip and fall from. A lot of words came out- none of them comprehensible between slight wails.

Loki gave a strange look to you as the metal armed one dragged you in as you did. Your skin was riddled with splotchy purple bruises. Had you really hurt yourself that much? you were still under your game. At your Valkyrie level you would have shielded yourself in flames that sponged your fall. He cursed himself for not watching your every move. You would have hit that wall and gone through it with full impact. He, himself, had gone a round with the green one before at stark tower. You would be in a lot of pain. Disappointed in himself he looked for someone to blame and all he saw was the one in the black with his arm around your waist.

James noticed one of the gods with the green eyes scowling down his nose at him. Provoked, Winter glowered back. "Take it slow _____." Bucky tried to hinder your speed as you scrambled around to get to Hawkeye. You were healing but he wouldn't be surprised if you were concussed from the iron suit shaped bruise on your forehead- then again, he didn't know if that was possible. He could tell at least that you were woozy on your feet.

"He is right- you look worse than me." Scoffed old hawk eyes, his head lolling to one side to keep an eye on you. You were littered with blooming bruises, perhaps some drying blood on your forehead too, you'd be better in some hours- he on the other hand- did end up finding himself a new hole- just about the hips.

Finally Bucky let you plonk yourself next to Clint on the silver gurney. You were probably acting childishly, everyone else seemed to have this, 'just rub some dirt on it' attitude. Amongst the Elves you were treated like a child, they lived for almost an eternity, you came to them looking as you do and they raised you as one of their children. You ended up with some dirty habits from such a situation.

Banner said he didn't want to touch him at this time, leaving Rogers to fumble around with the all the trench medical knowledge he had. He was already hovering, putting a drip in where he thought was a vein. Rogers was told it was full of all sorts of wonderful drugs, including some thing that will help him sleep to take away some of the shock of being shot by a supercharged hydra gun. After Steve figure he got it right he fluffed up your hair. "You did good out there private." Came his Captain's voice.

You looked up with a sad pout on your lips. You didn't do good enough if one of them was being shipped off to the hospital. Your brows drew together looking back to Clint at eye height. "All I heard is that you got hit." You sniffled. "What does that even mean?! So nondescript. I thought-" You ran out of breath from your sudden onslaught of hyperventilation.

"No," he waved off, "I'm fine~" he messed your hair around. Why wasn't everyone this hysterical when he got hurt? Made him feel very important. And they always joked that he was only a human- not needed, not helpful. Look at you- you needed him didn't you?

Loki hadn't seen you this worked up since Thor threatened to drop Mjolnir on Hati.

Neither had Thor. It was within the first weeks of receiving Mjolnir and he had felt so high and mighty as to tease you by dangling it over the little stuffed wolf saying you could never lift it because you could never be worthy. He was glad he had changed, it was only then that he realise that was the last surviving object of your family. As he studied the scene before him further- you were treating the injured bird like more of a brother than you ever did him. The blonde's eyes came to slit, this was a challenge on his honour as a brother. Well, he accepted, he would beat Clint at his family game.

Loki came to hover by your side unsure of how he should act in such a situation. He should feel joy in the hawk being injured- but it wasn't there.

 

"Thor- report on the Hulk." Nat called after a while from a spot next to Banner.

You didn't know the context, in fact, you hadn't even realised you had left the ground, you had been listening to Bruces' strange opera through his headphones and watched Barton's breathing as he slipped into a quiet slumber.

"The gates of hell are full of the screams of his victims." Thor reported back with vigour and pride.

You just saw Bruce's face fall into his hands from over Clint's sleeping chest. The man had no tact- which was even less than you. "Thor!" You used a hushed tone to reprimand.

He looked at you not quite understanding what he had done wrong.

You nodded your head towards Banner. He really didn't understand humans did he? You wanted to facepalm.

Then the blond idiot caught on, he was already losing his footing on this brother thing. "No no, uh...wounded screams, mainly whimpering, a great deal of complaining and tales of sprained deltoids and, and uh... and gout." He looked to you for some sort of validation and felt dampened when you face too fell into your hands.

Loki tried very hard to pretend he wasn't amused by the current proceedings, but his lips may have given way to his high cheekbones at some point or another. No, these things couldn't be amusing, too many good intentions.

You caught a flash of Loki's perfect teeth before he covered them up with a straight face.

"You're leaving when we back?" James asked from across the way. He hadn't quite heard the story of Banner's victims, he had only been watching you from your spot beside Clint.

"I suppose I am." You mood dampened further. The room became quiet.

Sure this meant perhaps an end to Hydra to Steve, but it also meant losing you.

"I purpose a party." Tony seemed to be the happiest in the room at that time. "You know, a little going away shindig- what's not to celebrate? Your siblings are currently out of jail," he gestured to Thor.

The blonde couldn't help but nod at that, that was a good thing wasn't it? Loki behaving himself was an even better thing.

"The scepter is out of the hands of Hydra." He gestured to Cap who nodded also. "You are on earth and we are not trying to kill you for some reason."

Loki deepened his ever-present scowl further contrasting the amusement from before.

"Lastly- you're leaving and I might even miss you."

You gave him a studying look, Stark doesn't do kind sentiments- something was really off about this guy, he only ever does these things with ulterior motives. "-maybe, but with the scepter now, who's to say Laufey's men won't be more determined than ever?" You had to get the hell out of dodge and as much of a head start as you could get.

"I am sure a couple of nights at Stark's won't put it in danger, especially because I will be there." Thor had his hands on his hips as a resting pose, seems he is alway ready to look gallant.

You weren't all that worried about the frost giants now- more Stark. He was up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little age of ultron for ya c;  
> Who knows what Stark is up to??!  
> there is a lot of rewrites ahead so don't expect chapters for a while but know we are nearing the end~~  
> I wonder if the read ends up with who you expect  
> I hope you enjoy the proceedings regardless~~~  
> UNtil next time thank you all for the support!!!!!


	28. But

"You sure he's going to be okay? Pretending to need this guy really brings the team together." Romanoff asked, though there was an undeniable fondness in her gaze despite her words.

He was lying on a table with a machine hovering over him, while all other company was dotted around Banner's lab. You came to enjoy the chemical scent of Banner's lab along with the calming lavender- it was yet another slice of home. You watching the robotic Stark Squad get repaired through the glass underneath your feet- it was a loud process, though no one else in the room could particularly hear it, it was just above the residential so you definitely heard it- you hoped it wouldn't take all that long, it would be bothersome at night.

The woman natasha was speaking to was a shorter lady with fine, cute features and big dark eyes that seemed to sparkle like a doe's. "There's no possibility of deterioration. The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous. His cells don't know they're bonding with simulacrum."

You were floating around the room now finding things to bother that didn't mean looking at the nasty wound on Barton's stomach. Even if the premise of recreating skin and body was most interesting for you.

"She is creating tissue," Banner verified excitedly for the room.

You could almost see Nat's dewy eyes now, she likes to see Banner in his element. Hell, there had been a time you did too. His dark eyes would light up like the stars in a galaxy.

"If you brought him to my lab, the regeneration cradle could do this in twenty minutes." Doctor Helen Cho boasted her tech.

You felt like gloating back that you didn't even need her cradle- you only wished you could make it work for other people. Though, come to think of it- there were some potions Marin had made amongst the elves that could help in these situations. You wondered if you could outsource the components here on Midgard.

"Oh, he's flatlining. Call it. Time?" Tony commandeered the room as he usually did with a loud entry carrying various shakes for everyone- no doubt laced with something he an banner were working on.

You scowled silently at the idea, the man shouldn't tease about your Barton dying.

"No, no, no. I'm going to live forever. I'm gonna be made of plastic." He replied awkwardly trying to sip the drink Tony had made him from a lying-down position.

You didn't quite want to think about the time he would meet Valhalla where you couldn't follow. Human lives were just too short. The next few days might even be the last you see of him- the last days he might spend watching over you.

"You'll be made of you, Mr. Barton. Your own girlfriend won't be able to tell the difference." Cho smiled through perfect teeth.

"I don't have a girlfriend." He mumbled still trying at the drink.

You turned to give him a secret look and he looked back with the straw in his mouth dumbly. He was right, he didn't have a girlfriend, he had a wife. A wife that was rather fond of you, as were his kids.

"That I can't fix.” She confessed before turning on Stark, “-This is the next thing, Tony. Your clunky metal suits are going to be left in the dust." She spoke to the philanthropist leaning on the bench away from Clint.

"Well, that is exactly the plan.” He returned distantly, “And Helen, I expect to see you at the party on Saturday." He eyed her.

Was this party thing really going to be this big?

"Unlike you, I don't have a lot of time for parties." She accused.

You thought that was a sick burn before she hesitated and said something else on the matter.

"Will Thor be there?"

That was a little unsettling. That was your brother, should you find this weird or not? He was the ruler of Asgard and his hair was a lot prettier than yours. But he was still kind of that kid that threatened your plush wolf out of an authority complex he had going for him at the time.

"I'd be careful," Barton spoke through the amazing painkillers they'd given him. "His sister is lurking over there."

You turned and raised your hands defensively, and pointed a scowl towards the drugged Clint he knew you weren't good with new people.

She looked at you.

You looked at her. It was awkward. This party really was going to be a doozy.

 

 

Stark gave you a space that wasn't particularly flammable after your little mess up on hydra’s field, he said you should probably train more with fire if you were going to be the only difference between Loki’s sceptre and total universe annihilation. His vote of confidence didn't make you feel all that good.

This was the garage above the weights room that usually housed all of Stark's pretty cars, now it was a plainly lit space, housing only pillars, toned with nothing but grey so that you wondered whether or not you had become colour blind.

You twirled your spear in hand. You hated this thing, you were convinced it only came back to you so that it may bathe in blood once more, it was some hungry entity you couldn't understand.

You gave a swipe so that the room was bathed in brilliant oranges. What stupid kid asks for the power over fire? You traced patterns in the flames. Fire always spoke to you, it was warm and friendly, it bloomed like a flower- but watching it now you could only hear the screams of hydra.

What did you feel about that? Were you glad they were dead? People you could never know, with families you've never met? You sighed, plonking on the ground with a pillar to your back. You let the spear roll away from you.

Come Sunday morning you would be gone. The surrounding grey room felt like a living metaphor for you. Solid, empty, washout, eternal. Alone. You've made such a mess, this is a prison you only deserve. You traced flames into the walls absently. Fire came a lot easier when you went surrounded by ice.

You didn't like using this gift for killing, it could do so much more than that. You raised your fingers and the brushed against nothing but air before the fire bloomed into a magnificent snout and the snout into a horse, a horse that then galloped around the room before spreading its wings and flew around with a beautiful crackling sound as it went.

There came an intake of breath from behind the support pillar you were leaning against.

You could smell the apple pie before you could see Steve. “Were you looking for me?” You invited. You were wearing some thrift shop deal- and Loki was right about the singing clothes.

The soldier’s eyes were still on the horse that was prancing about. “That is-” he started in awe without a word to describe.

You stood up to face him, “naturally ponies were the first thing I learnt how to craft out of fire,” you chuckled.

“I wouldn't expect any less from our princess,” your captain smiled. “Are you only practising?” He wondered to all the scorch marks in the room. Some looked more like you were letting off steam.

“Just- thinking,” you grimaced.

“You could just stay, you know? The sceptre might even be more protected here than with you alone.” He shrugged watching as you decided a small stegosaurus was more appropriate when meeting a fossil and the horse shifted into just that.

“I don't like the thought of you guys being subjected to regular frost giant attacks on the tower because of me,” and pterodactyl, it swooped by.

“I don't like the thought of you being subject to frost giant attacks alone.” He folded his arms over his wide chest.

“Steve-” your mouth pulled south, “this is my only solution, I don't know what else to do.” This was it, out of ideas. You had seen them die- and worse you didn't know if it were a  premonition from being so close to the orb of agamotto or your own head. Your fiery creation faded into nothing. You couldn't let them fight Laufey, that's all there was to it.

“You could let us help you for once,” he put hand on your shoulder.

“I want to clean up my own mess-” you needed to atone and protect.

He sighed, but this wouldn't be his final word on the matter. He messed your hair up just the same- leaving you unable to see, “does that much hair bother you?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You exasperated, “I eat it all the time, and you would never guess where I find th strays!”

Steve grimaced, “I don't think I want to know- come on, the chef made apple pie,” he looped an arm over your shoulders.

“When doesn't the chef make apple pie?” You you arched a brow at him, you swore Rogers put in a request every day.

He looked away rather embarrassed, was he too obvious?

 

 

Smelling of apple pie and charred clothes you took the walk back to your quarters alone, you generally slept in the common room for now but kept your clothes in your room and enjoyed not sharing a bathroom immensely.

On your way you lingered by Bucky’s door- you wanted to see him, you liked simply being in his presence. There were times he was comfortable and other he was electricity and brought out every other emotion in between. You made yourself steer away. It would not be fair in indulge on these feeling- for anyone.

Just as you had lingered at his door, you found the same person floating by yours. Bucky was in his usual black cargo pants and the same shade shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he stood leaning on the wall adjacent awkwardly enough that you wondered how long he was there.

“Bucky-” you alerted him and his head shot up.

“-_____,” a curling smile peeled over his face, the same that you had seen in the trenches- the same that could give you masses of butterflies.

“Did you want me?” You asked, you were number one for lifting things people couldn't lift or second hand to anything electrical, you eyed his chrome arm which seemed in working order.

You had asked in innocence but winter’s eyes darkened. “Actually I just wanted a word-”  
You stood awkwardly before realising he wanted to come in- “oh, yeah, of course,” and you scrambled for the door panel.

When Bucky was in your room you caught a glimpse of yourself in a mirror with black soot in places and sighed. Seems about right. “What is it you wanted talk to be about?” You asked brightly enough but still felt the looming fact that this may be one of the last times you see Bucky Barnes. You stood in front of him, not getting comfortable- expecting this to be short.

“Actually Steve-” he started as he stood with his arms folded leaning on the back of your couch.

“Thought you could convince me to stay,” you finished for him, expecting as much.

Bucky looked to you apologetically.

Rogers was very good at getting people to do his dirty work. “You know why I have to do it right?”

“I know why you think you have to,” he nodded, he carried the guilt of the winter soldier’s killings- you carried a few hundred years of Geiravör’s. “you think self punishment fixes things- but it doesn't,”

“Rock and a hard place,” you whispered you looked at your sooty feet.

“Do you know why I stayed away from you for so long?” His voice was low, he stopped leaning and took steps towards you.

“Because we each had a tendency for hurting each other,” you confessed, though you though that was in the past, you were in control now.

He was close enough now to encroach on your space now. “Because it was torture I thought I deserved.” His voice was low, a moment of pain dashed over his features.

“Torture?” Your heart jarred painfully. He was close enough to feel his warmth, to smell his soldier musk.

“I atoned for nothing- I gained nothing and I lost- time,” his greys were raging dark storm. Feel his breath on your lips. “I won't have this needless agony anymore,” your lips weren't much further from his, it was only an inch further and his lips brushed yours. “Stay.” You felt his words on your lips.

His words pulled at you. “I- can't,” your own heart clenched and reared in dismay at what you were doing to it.

Bucky surged forward, pulling you against him into a curve so he could kiss you further, deeper and so you could feel what you were doing to his heart as it thrummed against yours. He held a hand behind your neck and thumbed over your jaw. He only parted when it was unbearable. “Stay,” he begged, resting his forehead against yours.

Your body buzzed in a way you didn't think it could, a hundred words you wished you could say came to mind and yet, “I'm sorry Buck,” your drew the back of your hand against his cheek.

His shoulders sagged, catching your hand and touched your knuckles to his lips. You felt him speak against your hand, “It's Loki isn't it?” In his eyes he was broken.

“Worse,” you sighed, drawing your hand back to you, which he begrudgingly gave back. “It's both- and so, as it should be, neither,” you were lucky to live long enough to fall in love twice and for very different reason and to two perfectly different men.

Complex emotion played through Bucky, but what screamed out most was that you still love him. “I understand,” he spoke low, stopping winter from intervening and having his way. Contrary to what he just said, he drew you to him and leaned his cheek to your shoulder, “but I hope you will reconsider.” He whispered.

 

 

Your head was a racket. Here was Steve and Bucky asking you to stay but on another level there was a literal giant who was scarier than Odin himself, who you enabled to not only become so but would also target them and the rest of the avengers if the sceptre stayed. There were too many realms- you knew you could hide it, had Thor not not shown up, you could have gone on forever with the tablet and orb.

You had taken to the top of the building again to think.

“Well I also think you should stay,” Clint said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“That's what you're supposed to say though,” you whined, he wasn't helping, you had a little fire cat who was jumping at the stars, conjured.

“Why leave here when there are so many people that want you here? Why leave when there are so many who can defend the sceptre here?”

“Because they know it's here, because Laufey might even take the fight to earth,” you squinted at him, you had to get it as far away from Midgard as possible. “It's only a matter of time-”

“It's only a matter of time before they get to you too-” he spoke over you.

“Bet I'd last longer!” Somehow this conversation didn't have the weight it should.

“I don't think you're ready,” Barton crossed his arms defiantly.

“Didn't you hear I floored Thor the other week?!”

“He had a stomach ache, bad milk, doesn't count,” he shook his head.

“It does so count,” you scowled.

You noticed then that one of the stars your fiery Sebastian was trying to catch was starting to move. It then formed into a humming bird made of starlight that ducked and dived the cat.

“Sorry if I'm interrupting.” His velvety voice interrupted. Though he reserved a quiet scowl for the other. He was dressed impeccably as always in a black dress shirt.

Clint returned said scowl, his mood souring.

Seems the only way he could get away from his brother is when he is asleep and at night you always seemed to be here. The archer was a necessary evil. For now. Loki noticed the cat doing a strange crabwalk maneuver and his eyes sparkled with amusement despite his constant frown.

“No- of course Loki, come sit- we were just discussed how Thor somehow consumed bad milk with a chef as pedantic as Tony’s.”

Loki gave you a sly look as he sat next to you in the ledge above the A. You assumed as much.

“You?!” Barton accused in disbelief.

“Vör wasn't winning anytime soon, I only wanted to see the oaf lose at something,” when Loki grinned despite himself it was only at you.

“See it doesn't count,” the blue eyed bird sated shrewdly.

“Neither of you have confidence in me,” you folded your arms and made the cat hiss. Having Loki beside you made you want to lean against him, you held yourself back but found that you were watching the way the starlight shone on his green eyes. When he looked back at you- you face straight ahead. “Do you remember the time you turned into a snake?” You asked absently.

Loki laughed and then you laughed, then you both laughed harder. You liked the sounds he made when he wasn't hiding behind a big villainous facade.

“What happened with the snake?” Clint frowned.

“Oh- I guess before you knew him, Thor could be a real-” you started.

“Nerf-herder,” Loki finished, “and still is.” In his opinion.

“He first received mjolnir when he was young and used to threaten our belongings with it so Loki -turned into a snake and stabbed him.” The joke was met with silence.

Barton blinked, suppose you really were Loki’s sister?

“To an Asgardian, getting stabbed isn't like getting stabbed- it's just like, getting stabbed,” you brushed off. But still there was awkward air. “Guess you had to be there-” you clapped your hands together.

Barton felt a little inadequate from that statement having had to spend hours being put back together.

“Actually I should be off to bed-” you started slowly. “I have a morning run and breakfast planned with Sam.”

“I’ll see you to the common room,” Loki all but jumped at the idea of leaving Clint behind and was already on his feet.

Barton expected to be left out here alone without another word but felt you stoop down and kiss his hair, “I'll see you tomorrow brother, get some rest- I never want to see you on another gurney.” you said simply before walking for the common room.

The raven haired prince’s eyes narrowed and he thought of how it would take one push to send Clint over the edge of stark tower. But instead left Barton to his creeping smile to catch up instep with you with a storm in his step.

 

You could feel the malevolence rolling off Loki before he acted though you had reached the arrange of fold out beds that was now the common room, Loki instead gripped your wrist with force and walked you forward towards your room.

You couldn't reacted with words because there was already a sleeping Thor but you did throw a bad look towards the arcanist. His grip on you was not friendly.

When he pulled you into your room you let loose your glowering words. “What the hell Loki?”

“You called him ‘brother’!” He growled.

“He is my family,” you hissed back.

“ _I_ am you family.” He said loudly, his breathing ferocious and nostrils flaring.

“You both are okay?” You set your hands on his shoulders weighting them down. “What's this about?”

His head hung, you could see right through him. “You're leaving me behind again Vör-” his green eyes swam with sadness he had been hiding.

“I'm sorry my prince, I should never have left you in the first place,” you said quietly, smoothing the collar on his shirt.

“Why does this always happen to us Geiravör?” He stroked a length of your hair.

That name again. “It's my fault.” You intercepted his hand in held it in both of yours. “Also I- can't be Geriavör for you any more Loki,” you eased, holding onto his soft hand as if he might turn away from you for saying so- “we don't have much time left, and I'd rather have you remember me- for me.”

“I don't understand,” he flinched back and you lost your grip on him.

“The memories are here, but when I remembered I looked back on the life that was, as a different person. Vör- she an entitled brat.” You scowled at yourself. “The hair, the clothes, the armour, that hate- they're not me anymore.”

Loki thought over this for what you felt was an eternity. “When you accepted me for- what I am,” his brow creased, “I was genuinely taken aback because, Geiravör never would have.”

He was making that face again- the one that made you want to hug him, made you want to heal all his wounds, to take back all you had ever done to him. You through caution to the wind, stepping toward Loki and pulled him to you. “I'm so sorry.”

“-_____,” he said your name, muffled by your shoulder.

You held him tighter you felt a rush having your name on his lips.

“But if he is your brother- what am I to you?” He pulled back.

“I-” you started and your heart shifted and kicked for you to end the sentence. But instead- “Loki, I am what you need me to be,”

His eyes washed over you, “-Mother hit me only once when we were growing up.” He started unrelatedly. “It's when I told her- that I didn't want you to be my sister.”

“You didn't want-” your heart sank low, “is that why you avoided me for all those years when we were teens?” He was only looking after you because it was Frigga’s wish. You felt some of your foundations crumbling- you didn't think you could look up in fear or tearing up.

“I didn't know how to hide it,” he lifted your chin for you to look at him, he left the words unsaid and instead lean down to your stature and pressed his cool lips to yours. He kissed you long, slow and desperate- “Dear sister, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.” You took his breath away.

“I-” you stood stunned, your brain malfunctioned over itself.

He looked into your eyes and saw- you, you hiding in there through the resemblance. He leaned down and kissed you once more, not wanting you to say another word, and you selfishly accepted. He made you feel thoroughly needed and wanted, as if you were worthy. Still- you pulled away, you had to. “I will always need you Loki-” you tucked a stray lock behind his ears.

“But- the soldier,” he finished for you, he caught your hand and held it to his cheek. “I understand.” He became cold.

“-But the both of you,” you looked at the cityscape behind him. “I'm going into hiding soon so it shouldn't make a difference- but I'm not going to choose from either of you.”

Loki held a long face.

You curled around him. “I'm sorry my prince,” you squeezed hiding your face in his chest- “you and I will live a very long time- I hope to meet you again one day.” You wished you could be the one to stay by his side, to take the snake’s venom for him, but it was not to be.

You left words unsaid.

And so did he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck is up friends?  
> This story was dead in the water for a while  
> I didn't know how I wanted to resolve feelings  
> Feelings are hard  
> Characters are hard  
> People also hard.  
> I should be able to finish it(?)  
> Just will take ages  
> I don't know how clear I'm making intentions but Loki is someone that needs love and Bucky is someone that gives love and hopefully I'm doing that right.  
> I hope you enjoyed things, thank you for sticking with me  
> Thank you for the 387 kudos and all those comments that got me back into writing! Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this story is already written it just needs a little love  
> and even more editing  
> c:  
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> I reply to all comments so if you think something is wrong with the story I'll happily revise parts or fix characterisations or say Ahoy if that's what you want ~~ <3


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